Rapid passing time
She leaned in the white strips flowing fast, held the hand of the lover sitting with her hand tightly. Good times, beautiful days, beautiful landscapes were mixed with other beautiful things. The roads that passed with him were greener, the sky was wider, and the sun was more sunny. The hand sweats he kept in his mind came to him on the one hand, suddenly feeling the drop that was pouring into his hand.
For a moment he turned his head and looked at the innocent face next to him, but he could not look. As he pulled the handpiece slightly and always, he put the two hunters together and put them on his seat in front of him and turned his head. This was not the end of the short weekend break, but this time they were sitting next to someone who was tearful of love filled with love as he waved from the glass in a garage platform. This time he did not even want to talk. She watched silently the ways she laughed for years. Several minutes.
There was a place where the time passed quickly stopped, when he was down on the bus, he realized that he held his hand for a short moment. Suddenly he is in front of the garage, which he must continue on his own bus. He was in front of him, the summary of his life, the spring of his youth, the note book of love, the first great explosion of all the beauties of life, He saw his eyes gazing angrily as a star that was fading, his eyes shining like the streets of a silent city lonely under the new precipitation.
A fresh separation was needed for the hearts. "What have you got?" she said to the young girl across. "It will not," he could have hugged himself tightly. There was still the same longing smell in his hair, the same tears on his face. The slowest and the fastest of love always chased each other at such times .. Always! It was so. "If you want to get out of here," he could say, "how am I supposed to go?" It was so, he filled the whole sky with his soul and made a huge deal of weight like a palm. He was buried in the darkness with all the celestials. He pointed out his hand with his hand. He never moved, he never talked, he watched for a while, his stomach was a big, insignificant crowd. His eyes were shimmering on the road, followed and came, and his words were in his life. "That's it," he said to himself last. This is already the case. Without looking at the depth of the details, sometimes the finest things were taking so short. People were collecting the sadness that would last so short as to death.
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