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She Sells Sea Shells

I don’t know where to begin. All I can say is that it’s real and I didn’t want to leave.


Do you think clouds can be green?


Yes they can. I have seen them. I couldn’t believe it when I heard about it. I was certain everyone was exaggerating, making it more exquisite than it really is. 


I couldn’t believe my eyes. This one day in particular, the entire sky was green. And you couldn’t tell the sea from the sky. It was as though I was in a parallel world where everything was one long continuous string of events and as much as I was a part of it, I could see myself watching in complete wonder this supernatural moment.  


We were all standing on shells looking at the most vivid turquoise color ever. The sound of the shells crushing beneath our feet was exciting as it was sometimes painful. They were limitless but they’re priceless. Every shell not broken was a shell that would turn into something beautiful. One can argue, are they prettier alive or dead? But they seemed to have a purpose beyond their own existence. They traveled in small groups, searching for the best ones. After some days of alchemy, the shells came alive as jewels.


Everyone was an artist. Really. They lived two lives. One that of a hat maker , a musician,  dancer, sculptor so on and so forth and the other of a fisherman, the shopkeeper,  the coconut farmer, boat maker etc etc . You see life wasn’t possible if you weren’t an artist. Because when your neighbor spends long hours trimming the hedges and decorating their garden with old boat and car parts, cds, flowers, shells and defunct electric fly swatter, I would imagine that the only feeling that would arise is the want to make something beautiful yourself. It was their way of life. In the truest sense of the word. Art was intrinsically their life. And oh! The animals.


Everything was perfect except for time. It was passing by too quickly and there was nothing I could do to slow it down. No matter how present I was, I would catch myself looking back and counting days before all this was bound to feel like a distant story or worse, an illusion.  Maybe they saw that in me, which is why I was given so many gifts. Or maybe they always knew that I would eventually leave and when the time comes I shouldn’t leave empty handed.


And they kept their promise. I came back full with a sea of shells and so much more. For now, all I have is this story and these jewels I made from the shells they picked. I can’t show you my secret world, but I hope these jewels make you believe that paradise really does exist.  And it isn’t quite what you would imagine. Paradise isn’t perfect, not even close. It isn’t rich but is generous. Nothing goes to waste and contentment comes easy. 


It is the most beautiful thing I have ever experienced and I didn’t want to leave. 

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