PREVIEW
... he is already dead. Here, no one knows him. No one has ever met him—or even thought about him.
And there, it’s no different. They’ve already stopped thinking about the impact he had on their everyday lives. Their activities no longer reminded them of him. Because they’ve already moved on.
He doesn’t matter anymore.
It’s like he never existed to begin with.
But still, from time to time, I dream of him.
Because I am his reflection.
That’s why I will— ...
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