I sometimes talk to myself
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(For those whose presence I carry, even across the miles, and whose memory keeps the world gentle.) The small shop on HΓ ng ΔiαΊΏu was the kind of place you could walk past without ever noticing. A few silver packets of chΓ¨ Ζ°α»p hoa nhΓ i (jasmine-scented tea) sat neatly on the counter, their faint perfume already…
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I have met you three times. The first time, you arrived like dawn – soft, golden, unassuming. You did not need words; your presence alone felt like a promise. You touched the quiet corners of me I had never thought to visit, and suddenly everything shimmered with meaning – the hum of rain, the warmth…
