Morning Walk

He was walking through the field. Alone.

The day was slowly breaking out, the sun still hidden behind translucent pink and orange clouds. White sky. Yellow morning. And a light breeze caressing his face.

He closed his eyes and savored the blowing wind. It was tender and moist. Almost tangible.

He had been walking bare feet. His steps fell softly on the damp earth. The grass beneath, tickled him and he felt his toes curling up with pleasure.

He sat down on an impulse. Amidst the wet grass. Smiling at the field surrounding him.

He was thinking about his wife. And that special taste of her coffee. Nobody believed him, but it was true, the coffee did taste sweeter when she brewed it for him. Or perhaps, he was being irrational. Anyways, did it matter?

He sat lost in his reveries, oblivious to the rest of the world.

A butterfly fluttered close to him. It smelt of dew drops and wild flowers. Sprinkling a little more happiness on him, it disappeared among the grass again.

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