I said, 'What sir?'

I said, 'What sir?'

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Thu, Apr 7, 2016
With The Neighbourhood tracks blaring on the radio, playing on medium volume; it's 3.48am and she kept her gaze out to the roadside, with the twilight scent of endless dark skies, feeling untouched. Like someone would paint it all soft black with no colour, except the lights from the street's lamp post making it more relevant to reality. And both hands tucked tightly in her skinny jeans' pocket, she clenched her teeth, half wanting half denying. He looked at her and say, 'Don't be too hard would you? We still have some couple tracks to go'. 'Then what happens when the tracks ended?' 'I guess, if that so, well you just got to remember how it feels, nevermind the lyrics', he replied. Nevermind the lyrics. She's half laughing while looking at him for a second. Shaking her head, throwing her arms high, letting the cold night hit her hard, screaming, 'What if I like the lyrics? All of them beautiful lyrics'.
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„The sunset is beautiful, isn't it?", she asked, the sound of her voice strained, as if she hadn't been talking for a long time. The boy sat next to her, staring forward into the leaving sun. He didn't even look at the young woman when she spoke. Yet still he could feel himself, only a small part of himself, longing to hear more of her voice. It used to calm him down, singing soft lullabies whenever nightmares haunted him, or telling stories to him and his brother. It was the only comfort he could rely on. And he ended it before it could poison him. Silence filled the vast empty space. Only a single Rowan tree swayed in the non existent wind, its branches reaching down where the two figures sat, sheltering them from any harm that may come their way. It was time to leave this place again. He couldn't stay here for long. He hugged his knees tight, unconsciously swaying back and forth as he did so. Maybe, if he hugged himself hard enough, he could stay here and listen to one of her stories again? Just one short story. His efforts were in vain. He realized that when his hands and feet started to disappear, just like they have done thousands of times before. There was no way things could continue the way they were now. He knew he had to stop, but a selfish part of him was still holding onto that hope that everything would be okay once he opened his eyes. „Auntie,", he said, preparing his next words. „I... really prefer sunrises." 0101011101101111011100100110110001100100011100000110110001100101011000010111001101100101011100110110000101110110011001010110110101100101

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