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... always have a bit of sadness in their brows. They are gorgeously dressed, or sit upright or cross their legs, or drink tea, or lean back on the back of the chair to rest with their eyes closed, and most of them are swallowing clouds. Spit fog.
As if the smoke could cover their worries, and nicotine could numb their worries.
Aura filled the room with the smoke, and the incense made of spiritual things penetrated into the nostrils quietly, and the whole body was enjoying the reh ...
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