Postcards.

“There’s so much beauty around us. We hardly notice any of it.” I said. “Maybe, you don’t. I do. I notice most of it.” he said smiling as he kept the book down. “Well. I should learn how to do it too.” I said, smiling. “You don’t have to do much. Take some time off and go out to see the sky. It’s like a dark cloth sprinkled with stars. Looks fascinating.” he said as he smiled at me. “You’ve a skill. You do make it sound nicer than it actually is.”
He laughed. “Maybe, I do. But, there are few things in life which really don’t need much exaggeration. They’re beautiful in their own way and no words can ever do justice.” “For example?” I asked him. “Look out in the morning while most people are sleeping and observe the sun. It’s selflessly giving out so much. Look at the clouds before their breakdown. They’re beautiful, but there is so much more held inside. Or, just look at you. A combination of both stories. I observe it every day.” he smiled looking at me.
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