From Chapter 18: Staring Into The Face Of God
  To the other side of me, a father sat with his young daughter on a small bench. The well-worn bench had the engravings of hundreds of other couples who had come before to watch the nearing sight. Their own yearnings at immortality via the bench slowly being forever washed away by the other etchings of daily visitors and by Nature itself.
  In front of me against the rail stood an elderly couple; his hands gingerly placed against her shoulders. Every few moments a gentle kiss would find its way to the small of her neck. They looked so enthralled with each other, this could've even been their first date. But the touches of familiarity and the rings on each hand said otherwise. (I've always been inspired by older couples in love. It seems so genuine. Like they've figured it all out and now there's nothing left to do but enjoy the secret. Time becoming their ally in further strengthening the bonds of love as each moment passes.)
  The sunset was now only moments away. The Pentax whirred into action, capturing the "just before" pictures. The father helped his daughter stand on the once-painted bench to get the best possible view. And the hands of the elderly couple clasped together, as I'm sure had been done a thousand times over the years. Here it comes...
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