Two kids, you and I, playful, on a beach were building castles in wet sand. He had dug deep. Now, he could put his hand way past his elbow into the hole. She had also worked hard. Her eyes sparkled. Her hair, dark black, shone for the grains of sand in them. The crimson red sun was about to go down into the big blue sea - a spectacle that had been cast innumerous times yet still chaste, un-captured yet. Their digs were about to join into one another, a few inches away now. He could feel it. It would not take much longer. With each handful of sand he pulled out , he became more animated. The chasm enthused him to exert harder. Her fingers now were awfully close within his reach. Seconds elapsed. She had stopped digging and was gaily teasing and mocking him . That one instant when fingertips brushed together , her fingers stretched , soft to touch , both of them had skipped a hearts beat. The joy of achievement , trifling but grand , pure yet intricate was thrilling.
An inextricable web woven unknowingly , providence would have them cross paths again
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