These Characters Didn't Have a Conscience

This scared me. These characters didn’t have a conscience; they didn’t need one. The waves cleaned the beaches by morning. They started fresh. Like psychopaths, they felt no shame. One of the ectoplasm entities was the same as sand — wreaked havoc worse than the Ash Wednesday storm of ’62, dissipated, and was gone. The other one has some memory but didn’t know the whole story. It’s tough when the guy with the conscience doesn’t know the story. That’s why I couldn’t write it straight away and be done.
Charls knew in some way that once something is written in sand it is done. The letters wash away, the actions fade to nothing, but the action is completed and written down, somewhere, in someplace, on some slate reserved for yourself and no one else. Shamans like that kind of thing. (But how many of us have wondered if a time will come when we die that a movie of our lives will be viewed in front of us, complete with every action we have done, and how many of us would look forward to that? —you know — like the time you were on your webcam sipping beer and looking around the electronic gallery of minds….) They like things plain and simple. They know one day that all that’s done is placed in the Akashic Record and cannot be erased.