Sitting on the top of a rock

The smallest story is sometimes the biggest story.

There he was, sitting on the top of a rock, which was on top of another rock, which was sitting on top of a slab, which had many other rocks. There he was, sitting in front of the sea, with the sun drowning slowly and the sky mutating from orange to purple, also slowly. The warm air caressing his skin was turning into cold air molesting his skin.

In the rock next door there was another person. Also sitting on the top of a rock, which was on top of another rock... You know how it goes. She didn't know what the person in the first rock was thinking, but she knew what she was thinking.

The man in the first rock noticed the woman on the second rock. He felt embarassed as he was not ready to share his emotions in that specific moment. But why was he feeling obliged to share that?

The woman on the second rock, which by the way was the first rock from her point of view, stopped feeling what she was feeling and started to feel something new.

The man in the first rock, which by the way was the second rock through the point of view of the woman, also stopped feeling what he was feeling and started to feel something new.

What happened after is no secret, but that doesn't mean you have to know.

Hi, my name is Eugene and this is the story of my parents.