The Conjured Poet .......Contd.

This day which he intentionally created for himself was busy being written on a cool morning on a deserted beach rock. All he could see was vast expanse of bluish-green or greenish-blue water, unsure where it was meeting the sky first, he thought 'far east or far west? No! neither, it should be down south, where it has got slight curve.' He saw morning fishermen starting off and getting lost from the what he could see last and watched the night fishermen slowly emerging from the skyline on the prosodic deluge. He saw kids in their birthday suit playing in and out of water and finely dressed lot dressing up the beach now and then.

He fell asleep on the rock and his paper moved from beneath as the pen he kept on it rolled down the rock and the breeze floated it far, untill somebody started chasing it. Finally the paper was in her hand and she was wondering over the content as she went through it. It started like.....................