Nothing like a stainless steel refrigerator to garner the most amazing landscapes -- calmly surreal. This one most likely at night. Of course, the kitchen abounds in still lives but that's a discussion for another day.
Her laughter wants a sheen, piercing the cold ennui, as if the echo from the nearby hills could elicit new emotions. She sits by the window in the afternoon, composing from memory, hiding from the heat. In her latest version of the romance, did they fall into the old waves, a fondness for the same things, reconnecting where it hurt? At the evening's first stillness, she recalls a piece of silk, left by the bowl of water.
Her laughter wants a sheen, piercing the cold ennui, as if the echo from the nearby hills could elicit new emotions. She sits by the window in the afternoon, composing from memory, hiding from the heat. In her latest version of the romance, did they fall into the old waves, a fondness for the same things, reconnecting where it hurt? At the evening's first stillness, she recalls a piece of silk, left by the bowl of water.
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