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English Chronicles 2025 26printed 63 · PDF 73
113 pagesrevision 50822
printed 63 · PDF 73
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The morning was just waking as I walked down the familiar road,
black Oxfords meeting the asphalt with soft, rhythmic clicks. A gentle
breeze stirred, carrying with it the faint scent of dew on grass and
earth, mingling with the pleasant fragrances of flowers that carpeted
the spaces between the towering trees that lined the path.
The light of dawn painted the scene in hues of gentle gold; casting
long, subtle shadows that danced across the historic brick facades of the
boarding houses to my left. Their architecture, steeped in history, bore
the dignified elegance of an era long past, with tall, arched windows
and intricate brickwork whispering stories of decades of tradition. The
trees swayed slightly, brushing together in the breeze, adding their
own delicate chorus to the early morning, a gentle rustling that
harmonized with the steady sound of my footsteps.
Yellow-billed kites started to rouse, filling the air with drawn-out
whistles, their sounds growing in volume as the morning light made
the vast grounds a realm of its own. In the gardens in front of the
boarding houses, plants of all types flourished, their vibrant colours
gleaming in the golden glow, each adding a subtle layer to the
tranquility of the environment. The glistening sun rays streamed
through breaks in the dense tree cover, casting light onto the road and
enveloping the air in a warm, soothing embrace.
AC Chronicles
Whispers of First Light
63