It was a dark summer’s night. The ocean was gently lapping against the shore where he sat lost in thought. Every minute, a wave would crash against his feet reminding him of the days gone by. He could never let go of the past and that had always been his weakness. The next morning, he was to return to the city and leave all this beauty behind. The daily sunrise seen from the beach, migrating gulls always embarking upon adventure. A journey to unknown lands. Humans are interesting creatures, he would often wonder. They live and migrate and yet each new travelogue inks lessons in their itineraries. It had been long since the sun had gone down. The sky was not violet anymore, and he knew he had to leave soon. He got up slowly and began walking towards the small beach house that looked like a cottage from a post card. This time, there was no glow in the horizons to lighten up the foreground around him, depicting him as a glorious silhouette striding off into a magnificent sunset. This time it was only the present and the future. Only movement. And that is in all aspects of the word what life is. He thought. Moving on, always and constantly. As he turned around and cast one last look at the sky spread out all around him, the only comfort he found was in the fact that where ever in life he went, or where ever the world took him, the beautiful canvas above him would be the very same that was here and now, perhaps a bit different, a bit unique, but never completely altered.

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