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Summer colours, the fresh green grass and golden sun in the hair and pullover. Such a contrast to the mysterious pondering appearance of a young troubled mind. She was only a bleary image on my way to work, but I felt she was no stranger… almost as if I had seen my own reflection. What if I had stopped? What if I had greeted her? Would the sun have shone again on the fair innocent face?  

Oona Maria

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