Sand in My Hand

If you can't hold on to the sand, you might as well let it go. Tears soaked the sand in our hands. We couldn't bear to let go of the one we held so tightly, and the sand, drenched by our tears, rested quietly in our palms. We were all waiting, waiting for the skies to clear after the rain. When the sun came out, we would be able to open our hands gently and watch the dried sand slip away. The process was so slow, yet so long. We only blinked, and then we let go. A fated update. Premise: