It started out cloudy with a tint of gray. The sun rose over the horizon casting a golden net over the sea, stretching itself out across the little town. The shadows retreated into their dark corners, awaiting the end of the light; and little townspeople opened their windows to greet the wonderful day. And a little house along a narrow street, down by the little fishing wharf with the tiny fishing trows, breakfast was being made.
Here we find Pep, patiently watching the fire as he prepares a loving meal for his wife Judy. Straw fan in hand, Pep tames the heat into a slow and humble cuddle as the soup simmers under his vigilant watch. Upstairs the missus prepares for the day - for you see it was going to be a special one for her and her husband. She puts on his favorite dress and casts a spray of his favorite perfume after tying up her long brown hair into a little ponytail - just the way she was when they went out on their first date.
And Pep called out to her, asking her to come down for breakfast. They met each other on the stairs and he kissed her lightly on the lips the same way he had done so everyday for as long as they were married.
"You start eating before it gets cold. I'll be right down," Pep told Judy. He looked her in the eyes and then kissed her again. "You look so beautiful."
The door to the bedroom closed and Pep started to get dressed for their special day. For him, a neat little shirt with a matching pair of little pants, finished off with a nice little blazer and a spray of her favorite cologne. He smiled at himself in the mirror and reached under the bed for a package he hid there a few days before.
When Pep got back down Judy was sitting over her soup. She had prepared one for Pep and was waiting for him to return before they started. She reached out for his hands and kissed him lightly on the lips before gesturing for him to start eating.
He smiled at her as he ate. She smiled back.
And with breakfast done, our lovely couple held each others' hands and set off away from their little house and into the little town where by now, everyone has started their day proper.
There was Bill the fisherman, who waved hello as the well-dressed pair strolled by; James the postman wanted to give them a ride to the station but they declined, enjoying the walk instead; Margaret the baker shoved a loaf of short bread into their hands and they each took a slice.
Three hours later Pep and Judy alighted from the train waving goodbye to Kyle the conductor. Hands held, they continue their journey towards their special place.
A meadow, pond, rose garden and playground later, Pep and Judy ended up at the beach. They stopped at the end of the path to take off their shoes, but not before kissing each other lightly on the lips once more.
A large footprint, followed by a smaller footprint, followed by a large footprint. The couple counted the steps it took to reach the sea. When the waves touched their feet they stopped, turned to each other and said, "I love you."
They kissed, this time for longer.
"Thank you for being here," Judy said to Pep.
"Thank you for wanting me here," Pep said to Judy. He took out the package under his coat and gave Judy the picture they took when they were first here.
A small footprint follows a larger footprint into the breaking waves as they walk down into the horizon. With the waves at their ankles, they sat down. Pep put his arms around Judy's shoulder and Judy rested her head on Pep's. He kissed her lightly on her head and they smiled. It seemed so long since they returned, but yet they remember it like yesterday.
And they sat, quietly watching the clouds above and feeling the waves upon their bodies until their two hearts beat no more. Locked in an eternal embrace, with hands held and heads touching, Pep and Judy sat upon the wet sands - a special place where they first met and last kissed.
And as the sun slowly sat, the photograph of a much younger couple slowly drifted into the pale yellow horizon, continuing a journey that started sixty years ago by a man named Pep and his lovely girlfriend Judy.
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