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Burn Old Things
Short Fiction焚旧事
Soothing Rain And Refreshing Wind
7070
A soliloquy in the dead of night. Swaying in the wind, hanging in people's intestines. When I wake up from the dream, the pen is gone. Respect your youth and proceed from your heart.
Short Fiction
7070
A soliloquy in the dead of night. Swaying in the wind, hanging in people's intestines. When I wake up from the dream, the pen is gone. Respect your youth and proceed from your heart.