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Word Count: 2,588
Roads tracked by where the wind comes from moving souls and feelings far but that far as only tomorrow can be in the horizon thats always ahead it goes down the sun gets up the dawn colors and voices of the nature the huge stage for the life to play Among the salt of the water up where boats and quiet waves get a traveling along one fisherman with no luck was tracking his route on back to the crowded shore of stones seagulls and golden evening sand The one single sweet matter in his life was the unexpected sight of his very sweetheart standing for him like a fairy dressed up in soft and clear clothes whose waves did the wind raise like the own waves of that seas evening water which he was sailing upon But on the beach only the echo of the seabirds in flight and the desolated sight of the nothing was the scenery by that afternoon time That great void built into the life without magic the loneliness among such an amount of elements whose scenery was to him only to him the nothing for that evening time Alone doing his life made only of joy and happiness there was a long time ago it seemed to him that from his good fortune nothing was what remained at all or even before he didnt have any luck after all he thought of being owner cause the more he needed it there in the cold and dark season of his life the less he had it and time seemed to challenge him like never had done before when time were a clear and blossomed season ago With open bosom against the wind that rushed into the vessel and with the eyes almost closed in a hidden deep and bright blue the afternoon was getting into night while he kept on
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