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... the center of the moss pulsed as he passed, its soft glow casting a shimmer over his skin. He touched its petals lightly. It was warm, pliant, living. It beat like a heart. His fingers came away glowing faintly, silver dust settling on his palm like sacred ash.
The beach was still. The water lapped quietly. He walked the shoreline, letting his thoughts stretch like the tide. Everything felt full - his body, his mind, his soul. But not overwhelmed. Not burdened.
Enlightened.
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