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Eliot sits in the parlor, writing, thoroughly annoyed. He sighs and stops writing, the ink drips from the pen. He looks out the window, snow drifts down like a gentle touch of a mother's hand on a child's hot forehead, a memory he would never experience. He snaps out of it as the carriage parks infront of the house. Eliot gets up and runs out
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6MONOMAA
28/11/2024