Best Value For A Stereo Receiver

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The sun was hiding and playing behind a veil of clouds was just a reflection of apparent calm.
A flower in his hands, the smell of salt and ocean on her face. Returning home.
On the surface everything looks the same as he had left, the creaking of the door, the same soft light, the smell of roasted coffee in the kitchen, also a reflection of my grandmother was still there. There
within the time had stopped and burst out of the spring.
The dew of the flower in her hands her back into the present. He waited for the night and he woke up to see what was left of her in that past, the smell of roasted coffee, the light dimmed, her little girl, every impression that it was an indelible mark on his soul.
Why some times you have to return to her past to understand the present and the future.