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... tar. The fallen leaves, cold wind, shadows, towering buildings, all painted the city in the hues of late autumn.

I lit a cigarette, enjoying the hazy smoke after a satisfying meal. I found myself frequently looking back at this city. It was only when I was about to leave that I realized I didn't hate it as much as I thought. In fact, I felt a bit reluctant to leave. After all, it had witnessed my youth, my life, and even my love. Here, I understood that longing for someone was loneliness ...

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