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Dec 1, 2010

Everything Slows Down

Winter sneaked in over night. Frigid winds barrel down the ashen streets, tossing tufts of fresh snow into air. If this land could speak, what would it say? Does it reel from the cold as I do? Does it walk blindfolded, as I do, the walking simply a justification for moving.

Suppose that's all you need. Just to move. Find out where you're going once you get there.