Seems perfect and melencholy: everything is suspended, damp, and waiting.
Winter is only a few months away, but everything is still so vivid. The body of the land feels like it's in anticipation for that fist snow fall, for flakes to be devoured by the hungry dirt. In this little town, all the streets have turned from parched gray to a slick, saturated black. It feels like a time for traveling, but also for nesting on the couch with blankets and tea.
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