That day, I went back to the little dock on the side of the village, a spot where I used to hang out as a kid. The dock didn’t change much; the wood still made noise when I walked on it and the water under showed the gentle afternoon light.
The sun was going down, making an orange color that filled the sky. The sea wind blew, giving a familiar salty smell. I sat at the end of the pier dangling my feet over the calm water. Sometimes small waves touched my feet as if wanting to tell story.
Far away, there was a fish boat that just came back from the ocean. Its shape looked black, standing out against the sky which had colors of orange pink and purple. The noise of gulls added to the peace of the afternoon, following the mome͏nts of sun going down.
The sun looked like a large golden ball that almost touched the surface of the water, creating a long reflection on the sea. The colors of the sky changed more dramatically—orange mixed with dark blue, giving a magical impression that words could not describe.
Not far from where I was sitting, a small child ran towards an old man, probably his grandfather, while laughing.When the sun finally set completely, the sky left a trail of purple that slowly disappeared.
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