I believe we are going to meet again. Not that I can state any reason for it, but it’s one those little unexplainable feelings, that without rationale or logic, sounds like a voice inside you; but a voice you nevertheless trust. So yes, I believe we are going to meet again. Maybe it’ll be just like the movies – at a cafe of some random beautiful city, surrounded by bright light across the windows and a dark aroma of coffee mingling the senses. Probably, you’d be sitting a couple of tables away, with a friend, while I’d be hastily trying to feign interest in a novel. Our eyes would search for each other, slightly confused if it was indeed that singular familiar face from our pasts, and then, the sudden realization when everything pours in.

Flashes of those silent tales playing in our minds shall feel like movie reels, of…

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