“The deep stare into each other’s eyes lasts no more than a handful of seconds. But a lot is said and agreed where words had failed marvelously all along. He slowly and blindly starts stepping back, only held in safety by the tautness of the string unraveling from their spool. Assume the spool to be an inanimate object at your own risk, for it too seems to be uneasily relieved as the layers come off it. It spins, thins and gets lighter. She feels the lightness travelling into her fingers. He stops when the distance of a few feet between them seems safe enough. Life flashes in front of the eyes in monochrome. He jumps and hurls their kite upwards. She starts to tug and jut at the string and helps it fly away.”

Dusk and dawn at these cliffs seem like two forlorn lovers from prehistoric times looking for each other, but never able to meet. The dawn arrives. She takes a seat across the watery edge of the triangle and sits up crisply, looking cherubic and eager, patient there for a while. An hour later, she starts to stretch her limbs onto the sea. The sea surface resembles an endless sheet of glass that is breathing. The sky peers down into this mirror and settles down resembling the sea. More hours pass. Such painful lack of coordination between the two lovers. In her longing for him, she begins to look like him. Sky is deeper than before. Like a gorge now, but upside-down, a huge piece of charcoal soaked in red. The endless mirror that the sea was has darkened and aged. Dawn finally gives up, leaves without looking over her shoulder. Leaves looking like dusk. She disappears. Moments later he arrives. Dusk.