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The sky was ablaze with swirls of orange, pink, red, and purple in all different shades and the air at dusk welcomed a cooling from the uncomfortable hot summer day. For no reason obvious to me, my mind shot back to forty years earlier, when on a similar evening my cousins and siblings had sauntered up a small hill next to my parents house. We had been kids, free of responsibilities, other than to ourselves, but instead of an indoor activity, we had decided to walk up the hill, in nature, braving the hungry mosquitos, and watch this amazing view with each other. We had sat there for an hour, sometimes just absorbing the grandeur, sometimes making small talk. Could it have been that we had had a premonition that these seemingly unbreakable relationships wouldn’t last much past that magical night? Who could have predicted?
One of our cousins died a week ago, and I thought how many sunsets we had missed away from each other’s company.

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