She was always smiling. Poets wrote poems for her. Sentimental people smile together with her. She was happy because she felt happy. Birds sung around her: "how awful, how awful." Yet she was still smiling. She didn't know where she was from, she didn't know what she will do.
Leechard Shares: 20180317
A note from the writer
My followers followed me from Hong Kong to Singapore. With cameras.
A note from the writer
My followers followed me from Hong Kong to Singapore. With cameras.
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