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That beach was so beautiful and so beautiful were its pebbles all alike and tidy smooth and clean worn down by time by the sea and by the wind. Strolling was a pleasure and my eyes filled up with harmony until a voice, plaintive and almost weeping, broke into my thoughts. “I'm here, under your feet, among all the pebbles I’m the one that’s different from the others because I didn’t let the sea and the wind wear my body smooth. I want to ask you a favour. Take me far away, there’s nowhere here for those who don't want to be like the others. Here everything is beautiful to your eyes but for us forced to be all alike, with no freedom we might as well be dead.” I picked up the pebble which seemed deformed and was rough to the touch, but which my heart already loved. I took it away to another beach where the sea and the wind were mild and all the pebbles were different from one another, in their forms and colours, in their voices and thoughts. I go and see it every day and mixing them up is impossible because each one of them has a different smile.
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Dec 10, 2017
Dec 10, 2017 at 1:13 PM UTC
The beach of the time-worn pebbles
That beach was so beautiful and so beautiful were its pebbles all alike and tidy smooth and clean worn down by time by the sea and by the wind. Strolling was a pleasure and my eyes filled up with harmony until a voice, plaintive and almost weeping, broke into my thoughts. “I'm here, under your feet, among all the pebbles I’m the one that’s different from the others because I didn’t let the sea and the wind wear my body smooth. I want to ask you a favour. Take me far away, there’s nowhere here for those who don't want to be like the others. Here everything is beautiful to your eyes but for us forced to be all alike, with no freedom we might as well be dead.” I picked up the pebble which seemed deformed and was rough to the touch, but which my heart already loved. I took it away to another beach where the sea and the wind were mild and all the pebbles were different from one another, in their forms and colours, in their voices and thoughts. I go and see it every day and mixing them up is impossible because each one of them has a different smile.
6. 2. '16 from the collection “Menu of love”
gianfranco-aurilio
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Dec 10, 2017
Dec 10, 2017 at 1:13 PM UTC
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