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The cold gently caress my cheeks into redness.
The people walked around leisurely, seemed in no hurry. The road littered with
autumn leaves, vibrant yellow and orange even in their death. It looked
captivating. It looked ethereal.
I wish the time would stop, and let me cherish
this for eternity.
Memory is a fickle thing. Even now, I hardly
remember how the people speak and greet each other. Their smile on a mere
stranger, speaking in broken language but still understanding each and every
gesture.
I miss these feelings. To surround myself by
strangers, to learn some new culture, to meet new people with their own
lifestyle. To see that there's more in life than my own perspective. To realize
that I'm as significant as the next person.
I miss this. Take me back there, to see the
autumn leaves, please.
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