•Walking on the wet soil on an August evening, she thinks of little
•Feeling the wetness underneath her feet, she enjoys it!
•The waves send her greetings & she answers it by sticking her foot in the edges of the water body
•The slow moving air runs to her, as if welcoming her.
•Moments later, little children appear & a broad grin appears on her pale face, serving as an opening for the sorrow that had built its home deep within her not quite long, to escape.
August_Ailurophile
©mabruka004
M