Imagine walking on a beach.You're barefoot and you can feel the sand yield to your feet as you walk. Its evening time, so the sand is nice and cool between your toes. The Sun is low in the sky,and you have to squint when you face it.The only sound you can hear is the waves rolling in and out and an occasional seagull shrieking as it swoops over the water. You stop for a moment and take a deep breath.

You can smell the seaweed in the air.You see a shell in the sand,and pick it up.You hold the shell in your hand,touching its coarse and white surface with your thumb.You put the shell in your pocket and start walking again.Now,you begin to hear voices murmur and laughter and in the light ahead you can see the silhouettes of people sitting in an outdoor resturant.You start to feel the scent of the food,and realize how hungry you are.Your mouth begins to water and you pick up your pace as the scents enchant your appetite.

If you are truly immersed in this story,you can very well smell the seaweeds or you can feel the coarseness of the sea shell now. Ahh !! and your mind must be dancing at the entrapment of the sweet smell of a beach side restaurant.

As for me and my words , I say the more you get immersed in the stories of mine, the more internal you will become to me. What is more intriguing is the more I strike sense in my stories, the more I look for thoughts external to my being, just to solve this unsolvable jig saw puzzle....