She floated through the dim corridor like a quiet leaf, happily holding the sheet music, playing with bouncy balls, and then fixed at the moment when she looked up gracefully, and the dust rustled down.
In the rainstorm, she raised her sweet face and sang in a loud voice, and the tail sound was like the white air flow of a plane passing by, lingering incessantly. It was
She walked across the square against the flow of people, and saw the same woman in the coach, holding the camera in surprise.
During the audition, she wrapped her fingers tightly with the tape of the song clip to relieve the intense load of her heart.
She insisted on choking the beating of her heart with the tenacious high-pitched voice that hovered upwards.
She found her father late at night and told him, 'I don't feel like I'm alone.
She burst into tears suddenly in the arms of the man, unable to control herself in grief and grief. Then gave up singing.
She was immersed in the darkness, the marionette dancing in the gurgling piano music on the stage, the puppet died on her throbbing toes, and transformed into magnificent butterfly wings.
She met his eyes in the mirror, staring at each other's impending love. The angel spreads its wings, and the two halves of an apple fit together.
In her travel photography, she saw the black and white obsessed face of the woman who was exactly like her, separated by overlapping time.
She listened to the puppet artist's script, two hands reaching for the stove one behind the other, two souls burning with the same weight.
"I feel so lonely," she told her father. Because someone has disappeared from your life, my father said.
We were supposed to hide from each other and feel silently.
Weronica, Véronique. Originally, they were two pansies born from the same root system.
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