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My life is heavenly, full of people leaving. I'm afraid to forget how squinting or moving mouth in pronouncing "Anna". I'm afraid of all those trains and planes and buses that take them away, I fear the passing of time and makes your hair grow longer than I remember them, I'm afraid that all of them I will return again. more time passes, the more I wonder what pictures they have on the desktop PC and what to eat for breakfast and what are their new favorite jeans and how many times blow on the soup before diving into the spoon.
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