亂寫的地方…

12/6

擺在床邊的《理想的下午》因為濕氣的緣故,微微的發皺。像是它看著我皺眉,而我也瞧著它發愣。原本已有些不知從何讀起,如今又看起來更加難以下咽。
或許理想的下午難以存在。儘管試著複製,終究是趨近而已。

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