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With a gasping breeze it fluttered the fallen leaves, toying with the weight of them as easily as it did the tail of my coat. We did not speak, the park and I, not in words. Yet we understood one another through the memories that followed.

In those memories I felt your hands—chill as ever against my cheeks–and we were together again, whole as we were meant to be, whole as we had been so many years ago…

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In Fog.epub 120 kB
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