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Autumn touched the land, and the canopy overhead had burst forth into a song of color, now hidden in the shadows cast by the moon. I stood on the cliff at the edge of the island overlooking the ocean. I had never sailed upon it. There was no boat. The moonlight danced a path across the water, and beckoned me to walk to the Far Land where the sky touched the sea, reflecting the path of stars overhead.


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Ah, but this particular path just grows longer as the poor waterlogged traveler swims farther out... The only way to reach the Far Land along this path is to become light as a feather and walk...
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One well worth walking I am sure.
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