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An Extract Piece of the Story, "JPS"
He is gone.
He is dead.
He is passed away.
There are so many expressions to describe what happened to my friend, but I think, he just vanished from “here” to “there”.
I lit a ciggaret with a cheap lighter, sitting on the floor and looking outside of the window.
I was at his room. There was a letter in front of me.
The smoke could not get out through the window so it stayed in the space above.
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