hapazardly he moved through the days that seemed to never take a rest, die down to soother nights. walking through the paths had growingly been prolonged..... the walks , the steps , footsteps were tried to be synced with his swaying hairs , amidst the flowing sweat down his expanding chest,,,,, he as a traveller had done this more than he could count, he knew just ten fingers to count, and was being assured by himself its worth another day.....
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bornalone