"She was his north star, the fixed point round which his world turned. For as long as his heart beat, or hers, he believed they would always share a destiny."

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Silence. How long it lasted, I couldn't tell. It might have been five seconds, it might have been a minute. Time wasn't fixed. It wavered, stretched, shrank. Or was it me that wavered, stretched, and shrank in the silence? I was warped in the folds of time, like a reflection in a fun house mirror.

— Haruki Murakami