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A Blank Wall

“Whether you like it or not, I'm going!” she said, zipping up her suitcase with determination, a guilty shadow on her face. He answered with silence, staring at a blank wall that belonged to him. He wasn't sure if he was more annoyed at not knowing what to fill his wall with – all her walls in their flat were covered in art from her travels of course – or at not having a single decent counter- argument. It's been a long night. One phone call and she decided to leave. Again.

“I'm not leaving you, you know that,” the shadow slowly lifting. “You can join me whenever you like... I just can't miss this opportunity!” He continued painting silence on the wall, feeling his head was soon going to explode, adding to its patterns.

"At least look at me! Please?!" Their hearts racing each other, he met her gaze, colour sweeping into his world.

"I'm coming with you this time," he said. And the invisible patterns on the wall turned into music.

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