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The sunlight before a thunderstorm. How it seems to break and falter with a grayish darkness in some areas, while others hold a nostalgic, yellow light ray that seems to reflect the warmth of the past, and its' contents. This is where I find you, with your mysterious mind, sometimes contradicting your quick smiles. This is where I'll keep you, in the middle of a paradox. My golden, stormy sunlight.

— The End —