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“He didn’t answer, but he didn’t think her words were too presumptuous or forward. He just watched hi cigarette smoke swirl up like incense before her face.

She, too, was quiet and watched the ashen-blue smoke. Watched two people’s thoughts roll about in the smoke. She knew that once this silence was finished, everything would be finished. He and she, finished in the midst of this silence.

It was the kind of silence that allowed even their scattered thoughts to be heard. Even the rolling of the smoke made a sound.”

– Geling Yan, “White Snake”


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