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| quote: | Originally posted by idoru
There is a sound on the other side of this wall. A bird is singing on the other side of this glass.
Footsteps.
Conceal.
Silence is returning a voice.
Walking in the wind at the waters edge comes closer, covering my rubber feet. Listening to the barbwire hanging until I have a cognition.
Noting it down. |
fixed.
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sempre contra a corrente do jogo
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