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When the red fades, we no longer remember who we are and not even our favorite book.

When the red fades, we wander into a limitless land of gray trees and anesthesia.

When the red fades, all the ink bleeds from the writer’s hands and the once almighty gods wake up at last and eternity reels.

When the red fades, we fall into an ocean and we stumble upon the dying whales groaning for their lost beauty.

When the red fades, the sun rises in nakedness, no longer menstruating but with child.

When the red fades, the graveyards climax and the dead awaken.

When the red fades, we know why and we don’t like it.

And I wonder, will the red ever fade?

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