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VeronicaThe evening descended slowly, washing the city in a warm watercolor of light and shadows. Hour walked along familiar streets, where every curb and streetlight seemed to hold pieces of the past: a shop with a crack in the window, a bench under a chestnut tree where Hour's and Veronica laughter once rang out, and an old bus stop where Hour first waited for her to be late. His heart told him that this was not just a journey — it was a return to that very line of his life that he had been rereading all year.
Memories came rushing back, like people in a crowd: the scent of her perfume, the indelible chord of an old melody, her fragile hand trembling in her hair. Hour knew that if he wanted to, he could retreat — hide behind routine steps, depersonalize memories, and move on with his life. But something in his chest pulled him forward: the need to find out if she was just an image or a real person who had once been close to him.
The wind carried the smell of rain and the voices of evening passersby. A small square opened up in front of Hour; in its center was an old arch covered with wild grapes, under which we had once said goodbye. he slowed my pace. His heart was beating quietly but persistently, like a drum before the introduction. And at that very moment, when the world seemed to hold its breath, she emerged from behind the bushes, as ordinary and as unearthly as ever. They met.
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Veronica
You return through your memories of the city to meet the woman from your past under the old archwayChat Settings