The faintest gleam of their lost memories glimmered for the briefest m…

Haruki Murakami
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The faintest gleam of their lost memories glimmered for the briefest moment in their hearts. ✨ Haruki Murakami (1994). The Elephant Vanishes, Vintage
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I write weird stories. I don't know why I like weirdness so much ... But when I write, I write weird. That's very strange. When I'm getting more and more serious, I'm getting more and more weird.
Each individual has their own unique color, which shines faintly around the contours of their body. Like a halo. Or a backlight. I'm able to see those colors clearly.
If you never noticed, it never happened.
Don’t you see? You and he might never cross paths again. Of course, a chance meeting could occur, and I hope it happens. I really do, for your sake. But realistically speaking, you have to see there’ … ▶
He felt as if his heart had dried up. I needed her he thought. I needed someone like her to fill the void inside me. But I wasn’t able to fill the void inside her. Until the bitter end, the emptiness … ▶

The faintest gleam of their lost memories glimmered for the briefest moment in their hearts. ✨ Haruki Murakami (1994). The Elephant Vanishes, Vintage

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