Across the road near a historic river that was once the trail of soldiers crossing the Straits of Malacca on a battleship from the French troops, a handsome, white-skinned man who is often known as a photographer almost every time ordains himself with twilight.
When the afternoon approached, when the sun was shining orange on the horizon, he was always chasing time and the sun with his old motorbike. He is not the same as a professional photographer.
Let's say his name is Dani, he is just an amateur who learned from a teacher who has taught him some photo techniques and practical methods of judging and only knows the foot line the sky in some ways from that Master who was nothing but a bohemian man who was considered like a god in his life.
Now is the right time for him, where when the dusk begins to turn orange, he is on the bridge and observes the direction of the twilight scene in the sky. For him, twilight is part of a donut that can be shared with children. When it looks more beautiful he will shout at the owner of the universe for giving him sustenance for a bit of happiness in his life.
There was nothing more important in his life than the strokes on the clouds, the golden rays and the twilight of the night touching the sun until it fell into his arms. All he knows is that the sun is sinking in the bowels of the earth in Moroccan soil. He wanted to tell people that the sun was sinking in the earth's bowels, the mud would boil and the children across the country could not contain the heat, their skin had turned black. However, he harbored the ihwa so that he could enjoy the sunset alone.
There are two things that he often remembers at dusk and when he is shooting some twilight moments, are part of the memories and the universal power of the earth, the promise of the sun to return tomorrow and an experience for the moon. It's really not a coincidence that when he reveals the sun, he glances in one direction to remember the memories in his life
After getting a photo of the sun that had been shot with his cell phone camera, he stored it well in the cellphone camera long before all the photos were posted on hive and exchanged all the coins he got and long before he would pass on and buy a piece of donuts for the kids.
And even with a few photos it will turn out to be cryptocurrencies to be used as investment assets. He dreams of buying a plot of land, turning the land into an organic farm. Of course the land is near the bridge. The stream under the trail bridge had traces of heaven, and the ascetic flow and the history of the ancestors he had not thought of.
at that time the bearers of Islamic messages after the outbreak of the war in Persia, had made the river a transit point to save themselves, their faith and religion. It is said that the men were turbaned mujahids who struggled to sail ships from their country to spend the night under lamps and the refugees' tents.
Some of them even carry love in their daughters' hearts. In the future, they hope that they will be able to maintain the struggle and the treasures that have been at stake with tears of blood and life.
That's why the photographer's singing was lost when he was stamped on the bridge. It was not without reason that the photographer lingered there longer, until all the wings of the crane flapped its wings around the dusk and spent the night in the mangrove tree with a foreign silent song.
The photographer was just about to tread his feet again, when the evening twilight was no longer perfect and the night began to hang overcast in a sickle that was never perfect under the altar of lovers who always gave a kiss on the lips to his lover at the end of the meeting.
that's when the photographer was happy when he was able to capture the moment of twilight. He would come home laughing to himself and people would look at him like crazy.
He does not let people know his happiness with the twilight. Like lovers after being intimate, the photographer seemed to have found the passion that had been lost in his life again.
Once in the room in his house, the photographer will make a selection on the sunset pictures. One by one noticed. He will choose according to the category of beauty chosen by his mobile application. Then he wrote a little description for the post.
How will the photographer finally be happier in his long sleep, after he sends all his wishes on the night breeze, on all the sorrows and hopes that always disappoint. For him, disappointment is a stepping stone to achieve his dream. Tomorrow will be back waiting for dusk and aiming.