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Aimlessly, he had been driving around the city with the CD music up to the loudest volume. Today, the normally relaxing music just made him feel lonelier. The cloudy weather of Edmonton in the early spring came to make things worse by adding additional weight on his heart. He had kept on phoning Hope and cursed to himself “Oh, come on, pick up the phone!” “Please talk to me for just a few seconds,” “Jesus…” But what he had heard was forever the voice of a machine-like woman “You have reached the mailbox of 780-xxx-xxxx; eh oh, there is no room to record the massage…” What he wanted was but a woman’s warmth, a hand grip, a tight hug, or just a talk. The imagination of a woman’s nice scent could not substitute the real touch. The clouds gathered thicker and thicker and the air started to get choked with mini icicles; they landed quietly on his windshield like tiny crystal dolls but were cruelly melted down as a silver statue tossed into a smelting ladle. As time ticked by, the snowflakes grew larger and chased each other to sacrifice themselves on the glass. He slightly turned on the windshield wiper; but all of a sudden it snowed so heavily that he had to turn it up to the highest speed. The restless winds also rivaled to blow the snow from one side of the highway to the other. Thickly engulfed and could not see through the snow ‘dust’ stirred up by the vehicle ahead, he simply did not know where to comfort his lonely soul. |
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