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Moonlit Beach Scattered across the drooping wet sand were a plethora of sand-dollars and various other sea shells. The toll taken by their scathed and broken appearances, we had given them value. That night, the cold air bit at our skin. We ignored this as we were merely watching our feet sink down into the chilled grains of tears. The ocean had already spat it's salt at our faces earlier. The sting in our eyes still remain. We stood there for what felt to be hours on end. Eventually we sluggishly wandered over to a soon to be lonesome large uprooted tree trunk. At least it had already felt loss. Tonight, the ocean was our therapeutic spokesmen and no more

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