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In the ninth month of a cold strange year, there was blood spilled on the floor of a simple house, number 28, in the middle of nowhere. There was a nasty smell of rotten souls, of tainted life with dirty sadness and panic attacks.
One cold night, one more freaking day, seconds ticking on the clock in the opposite wall, sometimes Nobody can’t breath properly trying to figure out a way to run away from itself. And she feels like time is running out. Nobody is not happy nor sad and not breathing anymore.
The wind is screaming and is winter, but they don’t remember her name and we could guess that was already expected, after all that’s the reason she wanted to go away, together with the sound of water on a waterfall and the joy of music at the end of a party.
Obviously everything was just wishful thinking, nobody will go away, she will stay in the end, and in between sleepless nights, exhausted bodies and all the lies they made up… There is blood spilled on the floor of a simple house with yellow ribbons.
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