She was just lying there—listening over the phone as he plays the guitar and sings that song.

It was perfect; everything was unflawed.

His voice drives her heart on state of frenzy.

She seemed lost for the whole moment. Speechless she is maybe, but the moment deserves no words—only electrified feelings.

She recomposed herself; now back to reality. The dusk turned to dawn; her system won't shut down. Shut down in the form of slumber, not the perpetual shut down of a system.

The memory was still fresh. Every detail of the moment was precisely pictured inside her head. The transitions of every scene were well-remembered. But it must be forgotten, or must it?

She reached for her iPod, put her earphones on and scrolled through the selection of songs. At last, she found it, that song by Sixpence None The Richer, put it on repeat and closed her eyes.

Now, she's certain about one thing. She's in pain.

However, there are fairly enough reasons to hang on.

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