The coconuts contained memories.
They were only shells now but these shells held magic that would make grown men weep like newborn babies. Lovers torn apart by life and circumstances visited the shrine of coconuts, touched the empty shells, shared the memories of thousands who had touched the shells before them, and they cried.
Everyone cried.
Such is the magic of the wicked poison called love.
Hi,I just came across your blog and found it really interesting. What a wonderful difference it makes to read a piece of work with real substance I really enjoyed it and would like to follow you if that's ok?
ReplyDeleteI am actually a Mindfulness Therapist & scholar of Tibetan Buddhism working with Co-Dependency and I've just devised a programme aimed at helping people rid themselves of such behaviours immediately and long term by using Mindfulness techniques. Anyway again I would like to say thank you for your informative work and also to invite you to check out my blog. Julie
hahah !! :D
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