In that dreamy way of memories, her recollection of those days was like a painting on the wall of her grandmother's house.
The story about it had been vague, as if no one either remembered or was telling. She had once spent hours gazing into the simple scene, at one point feeling like its hidden truth were about to burst into her mind. When that didn't happen, she moved on, the tantalizing possibilities always tugging at her.
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