She was sitting in the back seat of the black long car. It was something like an usual car or a hearse. She was wearing a beautiful big black hat and a black fur and black leather gloves, she was smoking. I could see her behind the fog like a woman whom you may die for without a really good reason. It was a rainy day, it had been rained before she was passing the street. Anyone could smell the scent of rain in the streets, calling a memory years ago, in a story with rain sounds. There were all...
Everything Passed On The Way Once
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