-it seems december will kill this time
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- on the writing table the paper under the paper weight was flapping in the breeze that blew it coming from the open window, she sat like a statue unmoving on the chair , the cold harsh winds were also inaffective , she was alive her breathing explained but her motionless body seemed dead, no matter how much one tries to hide his feelings and turn stone yet eyes mirror their life breath and as long breaths are working eyes reflect each emotion clearly of pain and joy
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