I never get bored of talking and capturing the sky, cloud, light, wind, and smell of wetland.

This is still a story about the saddest light in the sky when the sun sets.

It is a story from the view finder of a man who keeps waiting somewhere out there to draw the sorrow of lights till the big blue sky collapses. 

Still about a day whose name we forget. Perhaps.

windy ariestanty

Author: windy ariestanty

a writer who loves traveling and falling in love with places she hasn't visited and people she hasn't met yet. she thinks that she is the wind.

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