Ripples on a Quiet Lake

~ A short story ~
The aroma of instant coffee woke me up. It wafted into my nostrils, whirled its way into my every nerve, and woke up every bit of my sleeping body parts. I sat cross-legged; hands tucked inside the pocket of my grey sweater, absorbing every heat they can get. My eyes squinted as the tender light of the dawn entered the tent. The fog slowly vanished in the presence of the early morning sun. Puffy, white clouds enveloped the Lover’s Summit – as what everyone called the twin mountains.

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