The window is open, and the breeze blows in bringing with it the gusts from the past. .. the hot ones and the cool ones .She misses winters at times, the familiar biting cold. Lonely , but all hers and the hurt was what she knew. Quite well. Mundane.Intimate.Melancholy.
The spring and summer are warmer, more exciting , but she's apprehensively waiting for the bite. There always is one.
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The spring and summer are warmer, more exciting , but she's apprehensively waiting for the bite. There always is one.
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