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The sun, sea and the wobbly plank

The sun looked not quite lunch time yet. I stepped on  the same old wobbly plank on the bridge that my father had built with love. I couldn't have walked without stepping on it. I never had. That was the signal that got my mom on her feet and she knew without failing that someone had arrived. It had been like that since forever. I dragged my feet heavy on the plank. It seemed the whole world was conspiring against me and I was a lonely creature hurdling against the sins. The orange yellow sea too has its blue and it smelled cold and lonely.

I found myself standing on the beach, just short of the waves, gazing at the vast mystifying beauty, startled and clueless and started walking with the waves into the burly and invincible sea. The white froth tickled my feet telling me to walk more deep. I kept walking into the orange yellow sea. No signs of blues any where. It seemed the sun sipped in all the blues and dispersed a vibrant orange love all over and as I looked into the sea I…

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