I look. I look longingly back into the gray mist as I stand on the rocky shore of my regrets. The breeze brushes across my face, the shivers seem to remain with me forever after. I can see my family in the interminable cloud of gray.
I can hardly see the mountains, just a faint dark outline of their presence. The waves are lapping up against the canoe; the tide is creeping in as I watch the white caps bounce and glide off the waves.
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