"The images came to her one after another and with great vividness. The summer night, the narrow bed, the faint smell of perspiration. The word they spoke. The feelings that would not take the form of words. Forgotten promises. Unrealized hopes. Frustrated longings. A gust of wind lifted a lock of her hair and whipped it against her cheek. The pain brought a film of tears to her eyes. Successive gusts soon dried the tears away."
"1Q84", H. Murakami
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