The snow was snowing and wind was blowing.
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I give you the sun.
I rarely like what I see, although I pretend otherwise too often.
And every place starts to look the same.
Literal horse power
It is not the winter of our discontent.
Sometimes I just know you can see the pattern.
And the atrocities one can see when on the road! Like this tin stork of a well.
Soon after it was dark already, with nothing left to show but the moon.
Exactly like in the worn-out cliche, a journey of one thousand steps started a week ago with the first step. Or in my case, the first kilometer in 2,600.