He stared out of the glassy window, heart quivering tremulously, not knowing how else to excise the quiet ache in his heart. In the midst of the fuzzy bokeh reflections painted onto the streaked glass of the cafe, he gazed out into the night of ephemeral streetlights that flitted on and off like fireflies in a languid stupor.
Interpersed with the bright lights of the yellow cafe lamps were the falling silver raindrops, which looked for all the world to him like a potpourri of diamonds carelessly spilled from the waterfalls of eternity. And he wished that he could capture one of those ephemeral diamonds with his fingers and freeze its warm amaranthine beauty that even now was trickling helplessly into the black drain.
پروژه خود را با نرم افزار خود برنامه ریزی کنید
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لورم ایپسوم یک متن ساختگی و نامفهوم برای طراحان وب است تا محتوای پیشفرض را
برای پر کردن صفحات وب وارد کنند. در حقیقت این متن هیچ معنی و مفهوم خاصی
ندارد و ...
5 years ago
2 comments:
This remind me of Sec Sch English class, where we still had to write narratives. Love your style!
silver rainsdrops, diamonds, waterfalls, trickling - beautiful!
thanks weizhu! :) it uplifts my spirit to hear these words.
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