there, the coldness. its growing out from the pits of her stomach, she is getting tired of the uncleaned crockeries, blue carpet and the uninteresting start-up conversation of his. can he stop being so naive? and tolerating. she wants to run away.
**
then, those light-hearted, non perfect flattering words. they came in just right on time, before she sinks into the emoness. there are smiles and stars and grrrrs, all taking her onto a ride of everyday is a little joy.
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