tuggummiluft i datasalen II

I was sitting on the windowsill when I first heard the sound. I was trying to read but the roaring storm outside pulled at my attention and I hadn't managed to concentrate. I had read the first sentences of the page a dozen times but then something moved in the corner of my eye and made me loose myself into the clouds, the river of rain drops on the glass and the leaves flying by. At first, I didn't realize that the sound was not one of the million others that the storm was making.

Men sen säger det stopp. Vad ska det vara för ljud? Jag vet inte. Vem är det som gör det? Jag vet inte. Jag har aldrig skrivit en spökhistoria. Det här går alldeles strålande.


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