The Thought Of You Is Sweet by Valentin Rey
The sky darkens. The wind starts to blow behind us. We are still small but we can feel we are getting stronger. Our friends and us are gathering. We are as one, all marching in the same direction.
The journey will last a couple of days, maybe more. We are strong enough to travel on our own now, without any help. Yet, no one knows exactly
how powerful we are, no one can tell with precision where we are heading to. There are thousands of us, but we decided to travel in small groups,
each at their own speed. We are the leading group, the first to be landing in a couple of minutes. We have been long awaited. We will be celebrated.
Some people even prayed for us. We are slowly reaching our goal, we can see land.
Things look unusually calm. There is no one on the beach, no one in the water, like hundred of years ago.
I slowly feel the bottom of the Ocean. My lip drops in front of me. I am just a vague souvenir now.
What is the purpose of beauty if there is no one to surf it?