Just another of the novels from my soul.



It takes hours to write a story. Hours to write a story you’re proud of, something private, something new. It takes minutes to run down the sandy beaches, hair flapping madly on your head in the salty breeze – minutes to collide with the waves that crash delightfully upon you as if for the first time in your life. And it takes just seconds, mere rotations of the slim golden hand on your leather watch for someone you love to be washed away in a rainstorm.

The End

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