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The sky was blue. But if those white clouds hadn't cast their shadows, how deep would that blue appear?
Everything was a shade for the sky.
The cicada's sounds echoing distantly as if hastily born. The green leaves being scorched crisply by the sunlight. The hazy wind chimes brought by an indeterminate wind.
"Mr. Matiz."
Clip, clop.
Footsteps and a voice came from behind.
Go Yo-il turned around.
"I finished packing the bicycle. Using ...
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