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12.02.2018
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12.02.2018 02:57
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The sound of a tinkling music- a windchime, maybe, or a music box. But who would be playing a music box at this time of night? I don't see anyone. It could be a windchime, but the sounds weren't random enough. It was like a song. I try to ignore it, but an hour after the experience, the soft notes still echo in my mind. Where did it come from?
12.02.2018 02:57
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The cold stabs at my cheeks, and my eyes water from the harsh wind, but I don't go inside, I don't put on a coat, and I don't cover my face. I stand in the wind. Because I can finally breathe easy, in this bitter, cold air. Eventually, I am called back inside, but the lingering cold in my flushed cheeks still stings.
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