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The kitchen is shrouded in the pale light of the weak light sources. We play board games. And I enjoy very much of this society. However, I've pulled me back a little to small magnetic plaques move to cope with inscriptions. Again and again I take the box labeled "fridge poetry" in it to keep on the lookout for missing words.
I am just looking for a "feel", or "touch" one. But I find nothing.
It is an exciting experience to want to express themselves, but only a very limited space to have expression. If I find a new word-scraps inspire me and who I try to shape my thoughts.
loses Sometime later, the restriction on the kitchen table. We begin together to assign each word to its rightful place. The hot plate is marked with "hot" the ceiling gets a "top" and also provided door and even the outlet do not go out empty.
It is getting late and I have to force myself to break up.
Secretly I grab another word before I go into the room by Jana to get my things in order. The plate bearing the words "thanks" is carefully hidden under their keyboards. We hug goodbye, I go down the stairs and dark in the night and look forward to.
I can not wait now that my message, they finally reached.
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