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When the sun started to set, and when our car was the only one left in the parking lot, we did not leave the Vista House. Stephanie and I sat on the roof of the car, let out lovestruck sighs, and in turn swallowed our breaths to savor the feeling. However many times you stared from edge to edge at the Columbia River, it was impossible to see the same view twice.
"Sorairo wa kokoro moyou," I murmered in Japanese.
"What?"
"The color of the sky is the shape of the heart. It means no view ever looks the same. And that's a good thing because that means your heart is never the same.
”
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