To learn more and take part visit https://steemit.com/freewrite/@mariannewest/day-305-5-minute-freewrite-monday-prompt-tears
If you don't know what a freewrite is visit @mariannewest, here is a link to the introduction post: https://steemit.com/freewrite/@mariannewest/writers-or-wanna-be-writers-wanted-be-free-freewrite
She was crying again. The tears, not being made of salt water like you and I, of course, hurt as they tore their way out of her tear ducts, and I wondered if this made her cry all the more. The dry diamond dust tears were collected by the special dust collector that was attached to her face. The man sitting beside her nodded happily as she wept, and proded her with a sharp stick everytime he thought she might stop. I knew from experience that this process would last for an hour or so, and then they would unhook her from the tear collection unit and go fetch another one from the pit. She would be allowed to rest, to build up more of the precious tear material before being tortured and ridiculed into crying once more. I forced myself to watch. It was the least I could do, I thought. To witness the cruelty of my species. To record it with my own eyes and to transmit it to the rest of humanity. This is what we are doing! I would yell. Do you care? And then I would listen for a response, and be disappointed that no, resources are always more important to us than basic kindness and goodness.