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“Whispers of the Shore”

Muhammad Fakhri Fajri

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The old lighthouse stood sentinel on the rugged coastline, its weathered beams casting a warm glow across the beach. As the sun dipped below the horizon, Shira found herself drawn to the shoreline, where the waves whispered secrets of the deep.

Barefoot, she strolled along the water's edge, the sand cool beneath her feet. The rhythmic lull of the waves was a gentle lullaby, inviting her into a world of tranquility. With each step, the cares of the day melted away, replaced by the timeless melody of the sea.

A cluster of seashells caught her eye, nestled in the sand like forgotten treasures. As she picked one up, the sea breeze carried a soft murmur, as if the shells held stories of distant lands and ancient mariners. Intrigued, Shira listened to the whispers of the shore.

The waves painted intricate patterns in the sand, a dance of eons captured in fleeting moments. She sat down, entranced by the poetry of the sea. With her fingers, she traced the lines left by the tide, feeling the pulse of nature beneath her touch.

As night fell, the stars emerged like celestial beacons. Shira closed her eyes, letting the symphony of the shore envelop her. It was a language beyond words, a conversation between the elements and the soul. The whispers of the shore spoke of resilience, of cycles unbroken and the beauty in impermanence.

With gratitude in her heart, Shira left the shore, carrying the whispers with her. The lighthouse beam guided her back, but the echoes of the sea lingered. As she looked back one last time, the waves seemed to nod, a silent acknowledgment that the whispers of the shore would endure, an eternal conversation between land and sea.

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