Atempo.

Atempo.

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WpMetadataReadComplete Thu, Oct 17, 2019<5 mins
"Si fuesemos lluvia, yo seria el desbordado Niagara, colapsando con tu mártir Sahara". Cae en un vacío sin principio ni fin. Danza en el viento, sabiendo y no sabiendo que va a morir Conociendo y desconociendo la realidad de que va a renacer. Renacerá limpiando pensamientos. Revivirá ocultando lágrimas. Perdurará en besos de complicidad. Somos y fuimos lluvia. Gotas vertiginosas que caían para desvanecerse. Un comienzo con un final escrito. Pero quién te quitará lo bailado, y más aún cuando es debajo de una llovizna primaveral.
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It's the little things that count. The little things that pass by without our notice. The little things that pile up quietly, slowly, and before you know it, everything changes. Call it providence, or coincidence, or just plain good ol' luck that their paths managed to cross again after so many years. Whatever the case may be, she was grateful for it, because without meaning to, she managed to rekindle a flame she had long thought to be extinguished. She found her way home to him, and likewise, he found her way home to her. She had found her Catchy again. And now, here they were, studying in a University in Lyon, France, living a few minutes away from each other. Yet no matter how things seemed to fall in place around her, she couldn't help but feel uneasy, because the universe, being what it is, is fraught with indeterminacies. The smallest things could make a world's worth of difference. Her anxieties only grew when on their last semester, Catchy decides to take a leave of absence, without so much as a single word.

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