Oswald

@oswaldbr

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@perl 木の葉が風に揺れています。

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Bryan had made peace with himself and felt comfortable with the choices he made. This had made all the difference in the world. Being alone no longer bothered him and this was essential since there was a good chance he might spend the rest of his life alone in a cell.

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The red glint of paint sparkled under the sun. He had dreamed of owning this car since he was ten, and that dream had become a reality less than a year ago. It was his baby and he spent hours caring for it, pampering it, and fondling over it. She knew this all too well, and that's exactly why she had taken a sludge hammer to it.

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She didn't like the food. She never did. She made the usual complaints and started the tantrum he knew was coming. But this time was different. Instead of trying to placate her and her unreasonable demands, he just stared at her and watched her meltdown without saying a word.

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Betty decided to write a short story and she was sure it was going to be amazing. She had already written it in her head and each time she thought about it she grinned from ear to ear knowing how wonderful it would be. She could imagine the accolades coming in and the praise she would receive for creating such a wonderful piece. She was therefore extremely frustrated when she actually sat down to write the short story and the story that was so beautiful inside her head refused to come out that way on paper.

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It was their first date and she had been looking forward to it the entire week. She had her eyes on him for months, and it had taken a convoluted scheme with several friends to make it happen, but he'd finally taken the hint and asked her out. After all the time and effort she'd invested into it, she never thought that it would be anything but wonderful. It goes without saying that things didn't work out quite as she expected.

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He watched as the young man tried to impress everyone in the room with his intelligence. There was no doubt that he was smart. The fact that he was more intelligent than anyone else in the room could have been easily deduced, but nobody was really paying any attention due to the fact that it was also obvious that the young man only cared about his intelligence.

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He looked at the sand. Picking up a handful, he wondered how many grains were in his hand. Hundreds of thousands? "Not enough," the said under his breath. I need more.

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Indescribable oppression, which seemed to generate in some unfamiliar part of her consciousness, filled her whole being with a vague anguish. It was like a shadow, like a mist passing across her soul's summer day. It was strange and unfamiliar; it was a mood. She did not sit there inwardly upbraiding her husband, lamenting at Fate, which had directed her footsteps to the path which they had taken. She was just having a good cry all to herself. The mosquitoes made merry over her, biting her firm, round arms and nipping at her bare insteps.

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MaryLou wore the tiara with pride. There was something that made doing anything she didn't really want to do a bit easier when she wore it. She really didn't care what those staring through the window were thinking as she vacuumed her apartment.

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Was it enough? That was the question he kept asking himself. Was being satisfied enough? He looked around him at everyone yearning to just be satisfied in their daily life and he had reached that goal. He knew that he was satisfied and he also knew it wasn't going to be enough.

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Things aren't going well at all with mom today. She is just a limp noodle and wants to sleep all the time. I sure hope that things get better soon.

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"Begin today!" That's all the note said. There was no indication from where it came or who may have written it. Had it been meant for someone else? Meghan looked around the room, but nobody made eye contact back. For a brief moment, she thought it might be a message for her to follow her dreams, but ultimately decided it was easier to ignore it as she crumpled it up and threw it away.

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Sprinklers spray joyfully in yards.

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The gentle sound of wind chimes hung from the porch, their soft ringing blending with the rustling of nearby trees.

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The gentle lullaby of the river, flowing steadily over smooth rocks, was a constant companion to the hikers as they made their way through the dense forest, their steps in harmony with the natural world around them.

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Adventure camps welcomed eager participants, offering activities that fostered teamwork and creativity amidst the backdrop of nature’s splendor.

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Street art transformed blank walls into vivid canvases, conveying messages of hope, resistance, and community through colorful murals.

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Fields of golden wheat sway in the breeze, reminiscent of waves on an ocean.

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The beauty of love often lies in its imperfections, where misunderstandings and challenges are met with patience and a willingness to grow.

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