Ava Claire Harris. The Sea Worries Time (№ 383410)

People are reflected in the wet pavement, and behind them their reflections, float and float down the sewers, swim and float in our town, like a spring boats, float and float, and they all come in suede shoes or cross-posted, not think. People also swim, sail and float away forever. To die daily is not honest, and you know it, let them do it not on purpose. To die every day is not so bad as to die with you, die with dust in old boxes, or the same invisible Golden reflections, on the glass or anywhere else. To die, maybe wouldn't hurt so much if you hadn't reminded every time of his absence. Don't say anything or I'll go crazy. Nothing.