Life in the Simplest
Every sundown, I usually pay a visit to the nearby shore. I just do nothing but rest atop the edge of the seawall. And have my friendly feet there inextricably crossed, with my firm hands held together aloft my curiously innocent cheeks. In all my solitude, I've begun to appreciate life in all simplicity when I gaze at nothing more save the loveliness of nature. I've found them as another perfect company to slip away from the irksome noise of the world. Apparently, I've begun to love numbering the happy sands of the shore; hearing the chatty waves as they surge their way against the block; you see, fastening my gaze onto the lovely site of the place. It was really amazing. What's more, watching these disheveled naked kids bathing into the grubby saltwater, they made me laugh and fascinated. I've barely laughed from anybody else more than they do to me. Later on, I mulled over at them. Couldn't understand how they were able to paint such lovely smiles on