The girl once had such a fantasy: Dappled light filtering through tree leaves, buttons gleaming with a gentle golden hue. As the breeze fluttered her skirt, she basked in the warm morning sun.Perhaps it was the aroma wafting from the storefront window that made her turn back and stop, beaming with a gentle smile.
Perhaps on a particular morning in the future, fantasies will reunite with her as sweet dreams.
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