Violin sounds.
And now, I've forgotten the rest.
Sofya's tired eyes rest on mine. My eyes, inscrutable, rest on hers.
Agitated, in the agitation of day, I've forgotten everything. Everything, I have forgotten.
Let all experience inspire you. Don't let it stifle you. And the reason why I've kept experience in the singular is because all experiences are tied: connected but bound, truthful but all so full of lies. In the end, it is you who must remain.
Then a respite, in a slowly retreating cascade.
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