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Original Description:
 
Lars love the quiet, she also hated it.
 
The quiet let her think, and, half the time thinking was one of the worst things one could do with their time. If you started thinking, you started realizing how complicated life was, you started to think about where your next meal was going to come from, or if there was someone with a sniper rifle waiting for you just over the ridge line.
 
And yet, one couldn’t avoid thinking altogether.
 
Sometimes one had to think about directions, namely what directions one’s life had propelled you down. And where those currents were guiding you now. Or about the itching sensation that prickled her nostrils every time the wind shifted.
 
‘I know your out there!’ She called to the sands, and the one hiding somewhere in them. She hadn’t been trying to hide herself, just get out, get away, think.
 
If her pursuer heard her they chose to remain silent, leaving her back with her thoughts. To many thoughts, it was making her head hurt. There was to much to think about, her life was getting to complicated for all this, and she just wanted a good fight. Fighting was like meditating, there was no thoughts about this and that, there was just the moment, the blissful joy of the here and now as you slugged it out with someone who was intent on doing the same to you.
 
She missed those moments. They were far and few between now, as civilized, people didn’t go around picking fights with their coworkers. Didn’t clear the air with their fists and then call for a round of drinks afterwards.
 
Civilized. And because the world was so civilized, she had to come out here. Be alone for awhile, and think. Thoughts, so many bloody thoughts.
 
Maybe she would make a painting of it.
 
That at least made her smile.