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Doors of being

Windows and doors

Windows and doors

I stood by my open narrow window. It was raining. Rain spears falling straight to soft mother earth, to the green leaves and to the roofs of the buildings yonder. Thin spears…it was rainy season…softly falling raindrops, making the whole world seem soft wet and comfortable. Dryness is lack of life. I projected myself through the narrow window...

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