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The Andersen Chronicles #29

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Running along the beach, we look on in reverent silence as earth’s rotation gradually unfold the ever-beautiful illusion of the sun rising in the East.

Innumerable photons speed through the cool air, bounce off your body and expose the wayward strands of dark hair brushing over your forehead, the beads of sweat trickling down your temples, the wonderfully monotonous rise and fall of your chest.

Past the floating bridge, the lifeguard station, and the boarded up ice-cream stand, you grab my arm and slow your pace.

Standing still, you tell me to strip, then start toward the water.

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