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The half moon, high up, directly above the bald head. The rising sea, thudding into the rocks that make an arbitrary shore. Soft murmurs of people, riding the wind along with the sound of the waves. A pink and magenta sky, fading into a dull violet in the east, punctuated by the moon.

A little distance from the sea, the city roars on. Here though, there is space to breathe, think, feel, be.


Published by appamprawns

soni writes about children and people in controlled spaces, in his quest for appam stew. homi writes in the hope of being able to buy prawns to make patiyo.

4 thoughts on “Sunset

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