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lend me your hand


I remember the days when I would don my red coat and you would bury yourself neck deep in your favorite green scarf. Back then I road precariously on the handlebars of your bike all the way to the bay. We would gambol across the rocky beach, tangling our ankles in seaweed and tripping over each other. The sea always held an impenetrably ominous air, captivating us both. Fingers interlaced, we would watch pensively, lulled by its rhythmic patterns. Somedays, I go back to cast wishes into the bay.

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