Suffering is the sandpaper of our incarnation. It does its work of shaping us.
God went out of me as if the sea dried up like sandpaper, as if the sun became a latrine. God went out of my fingers. They became stone. My body became a side of mutton and despair roamed the slaughterhouse.
Usability methods are like sandpapering a chair. If you are making a chair, the sandpaper can make it smoother. But no amount of sandpaper will turn a chair into a table.
God went out of me as if the sea dried up like sandpaper, as if the sun became a latrine.
Good drama should sandpaper the mind.