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The sky before a storm always carries a strange kind of sadness.
The clouds hang low, the wind turns colder, and the trees stand still as if they are waiting for something. Everything remains the same, yet the world suddenly seems to move a little slower.
Some days, my heart feels just like this sky not exactly sad, just heavy with too many feelings that have never found their names.
Soon, the rain will come, washing away the heat and everything we have been quietly carrying.
Maybe a storm is simply the sky’s way of healing itself.
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