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Rated: E · Prose · Other · #1394774
the journeying man
I sat under a tree by the roadside. He walked by my tree. I knew everything i could possibly know by observing his walking everyday. On rainy days, he'd stop by and sit under my tree with me. We'd sit there in complete silence and harmony. And then the rain would stop and he'll continue his journey. I don't quite know where he's going. I just know that he walks a mile everyday in one direction and a mile back in the other.
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