Ermilia’s Picture it & Write.

The waves of foamy white and translucent blue trailed behind our floating vessel as it cradled us to distant shores. I stood at the stern, watching it slither its way to the frowning horizon as if the grey waters above and the blue below had arranged to convene at that very place for a family reunion. When I was a boy, I would stretch out both arms in a V, and holding a fishing rod in my right hand, pretend I was Moses parting the Red Sea. Now, as I let my imagination fly, I see a trail of breadcrumbs all the way to the harbour, to guide me like little beacons when I return to my homeland.

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