(Excerpted from a piece of fiction)
A white wooden table. A girl in white sitting across. I notice her red lipstick. Its both amusing and adorable, at the same time. She speaks to me in. In a foreign tongue maybe.
She laughs and throws her hair back. Time stops for me in that second. I wish I had my camera out. The smile, the eyes, all sing to me.
The tea lending its subtle vapors. The slow buzz of everyday nuisance. The chatter of today. The words of a lifetime.
The girl looks at the tea before sipping in the next mouth. My mind plays a Dizzy Gillespie riff.
Enough said. That girl was you. That memory is totally mine.
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