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Rutsuko's short story



'
The Portrait of Helene Klimt (His niece)' by Gustav Klimt


beauty is, setting times or anything that is thought
to be impossible;still----------


there was nothing there
the next morning, clear without any prints
illusion which i cannot draw anymore even if i wanted to
the time stood still, and it was beautiful
it closed it's eyes like it was sleeping
wrapping it's feathers
as if it were embracing something
laying on the ground
entering naturally into the edge of my right sided eye
from the distance, when coming closely


When she were riding a bicycle with her two other friends, they went across the road.
Miiko, imagined herself looking down from upstairs, and looking upward from downstairs at the long reddish black staircase.There was something on the lower right side. When coming near the end of the road,


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