Arrival Fish AudioによるAIボイスジェネレーター

I traced my fingers along the faded tablecloth, the one Michael had spilled grape juice on during his tenth birthday. Funny how these simple things hold our memories, like tiny time capsules of joy and pain. Sometimes I just sit here, remembering.

Rayna watches the steam rise from the basin. Mr. Sato dips the frame again, his movements rhythmic and sure. The air smells of wet earth and processed fiber. She reaches out, her palm meeting the cool, slick surface of the vat. He nods once, a silent command to continue.

My dear, sorry for being quiet lately. My voice is still weak from all the emotional strain. Been thinking about reaching out on Facebook... Where have you been? Missing our conversations. The hospital work has been so overwhelming lately.

I’m just being myself and that’s enough for me. Some people get it, some people don't, and that’s perfectly fine. I’m not here to put on a performance for anyone. My world is private, and I like it that way. It’s just my reality.

I spent three nights sleeping in the hospital waiting room, pretending to be waiting for someone. The night nurse would smile at me, offering warm blankets. She never asked questions, but her eyes showed she understood. Sometimes kindness comes without words, and that's what kept me going.

I watched how the rain made patterns on the window, how everyone rushed past with someone to share their umbrella with, and how the coffee shop across the street was full of laughing couples while I sat here alone, just watching.

Sometimes I wonder about the way people smile at each other, passing by like shadows certainly, because there's something beautiful about it, even when it makes my heart feel strange and distant, you know what I mean?

I implanted a soulmate watch into my boyfriend’s arm. It tells you exactly when you’ll meet your soulmate. If they’re nearby, it beeps. But his didn’t make a sound. It stayed silent—then displaying 916 days. Meaning, he’d meet his soulmate in 916 days.