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Remembering The Red of the Sunset

From an old blog and another time! But my sentiments remain


Annie sat on the bench staring out at the sea. The orange glow of the setting sun lighting up the dark sky, framing the islands with an inky shadow.  Everything was still, even the waves had slowed down to a gentle hush as they kissed the rocks below. It was one of those perfect November nights. Cold, not a breath of wind with only the sound of the sea birds to break the hush. Annie loved the silence of her bench. In the last few days all she heard was the chatter of pitying voices, the clink of another healing cup of tea, the drone of the funereal prayers and hymns, this was a brief moment of calm and peace.  The colours changed again as the sea started to swallow the sun, orange became a deep pink then red. Annie had loved red but lately it had come to signify so much sorrow. The red cross…

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