on the day when her grandchildren will be sitting on her lap asking for the bravest thing she has done, she will be looking back at this moment.
she’s in no danger. no noise. no death-defying acts. but with peaceful tree-whistles, lullaby-like bird-tunes, embrace-like forest air. and her heart and mind who were both dauntless enough to walk out of a life in the concrete jungle and be with the one she prefers, a simpler, slower life.
she will tell them, for only the brave knows living is not owning. living is making each breath counts. with money or without.
Word count: 100
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