Whenever I pause for a moment to watch the sunset, I imagine the The Little Prince in Antoine de Saint-Exupery‘s well-loved book moving his chair to the end of his little planet to watch a sunset, moving it again to watch another one, moving it as many times as he wants to see as many sunsets as he needs.
The little prince said: “One day, I saw the sunset forty-four times!”
And he added: “You know–one loves the sunset, when one is so sad . . .”
“Were you so sad, then?” I asked, “on the day of the forty-four sunsets?”
But the little prince made no reply.
When I was a kid, I tried to avoid sunsets. I sheltered myself whenever I see the end of the day coming. I didn’t want to see the saffron sky and be deafened by the seemingly dawning silence. Sunsets used to move…
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