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Hard Winter Solace
Strange, I can remember the falling, always the falling like bleak against ivory, but never the accumulation. The newsman called it the hardest winter since 1972. In those last few weeks I stayed shut in, refusing even to answer the phone. Fitfully I nested in blue and yellows, preoccupying myself with matching socks the size of thumbs and practiced breathing as if it were an elusive foreign language, desperate to forget the results of the sonogram.
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