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" We were utterly alone. The hot-springs hotel where we'd had lunch, and the iron bridge, lay hidden in the shadow of the mountains. Every once in a while, as if remembering its duty, the sun showed its face through a break in the clouds. All we could hear were the screeches of crows and the rush of water. Someday, somewhere, I will see this scene, I felt. The opposite of deja-vu - not the feeling that I'd already seen what was around me, but the premonition that I would someday. "
― Haruki Murakami , South of the Border, West of the Sun