Entering through the door, my senses were hit by that smell. As of the walls were made of your skin. And I was breathing its scent. Although sick, you were full of life and kindness.   Bitter-sweet, like apples fallen on dry soil when autumn debuts. And the chairs with their backrests that gathered around my shoulders. Forgetting to feel uncomfortable, because your words made me travel a long way. Fleeting words, which I cannot remember today. Even if I wanted to. They were not only sentences. You engraved

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