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Memories. memoirs Stories

memories. memoirs

Finding myself once again waiting here out on the platform, standing here waiting upon the arrival of yet another midnight train and feeling that gently blowing breeze and hearing it sigh through the nearby pines. And having recently undergone another change just like the seasons do as they pass, knowing too that all those rags and ribbons we all have and carry will all fade away and gradually disappear as they slowly tur...