Gently rubbing, the sand grains scrape against the skin, emitting a subtle "swoosh," taking away the surface oil and dirt.
He continues to apply the sand on his chest, back, and legs, the grains rolling on his skin like countless tiny brushes.
Once cleansed, he stands up, vigorously shaking his body, causing the grains to cascade down like an old shell peeling away, leaving his skin still dry but with a hint of refreshment.
He exits the bathroom and dresses again, then sits down at the desk.
Turning on a dim lamp, he takes out a tattered book and begins to flip through it.
The book was left by the previous owner of the room, documenting many scenes from the world before the Immortal Virus outbreak.
Flipping open the pages, his fingertips gently glide across the faded pictures, children running on green grass under blue skies and white clouds, laughter seeming to echo through the paper.
