Cavalierio: Hey Molly, come and see the snow.
Molly: Snow? What snow?
Cavalierio: You've to come out to see it. Hurry. February's coming to an end.
Molly: I see no snow. The sun is shining. Shining oppressively, probably in cahoots with the government.
Cavalierio: Is the sunlight hiding the snow? You can see the flakes falling out from nowhere just above. Look closely, past the timezone, where the red roof juts into the sky.
Molly: Ah, yes, these light falling things. Where do they come from?
Cavalierio: She once said that every snowflake is different.
Cavalierio: She said, If that were true, how could we ever recover from the wonder of it?
Molly: By forgetting. We cannot keep in mind too many things. There is only the present and nothing to remember.
Cavalierio: You remember what she said after all.
Molly: Look at how they fall onto the ground, so gently, like a whisper.
Cavalierio: Then they disappear.
Molly: They do, into the past, where there're only abandoned secrets, stubborn nostalgia, and everything to forget.
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