“The mist on the glass is congealing, ’tis the hurricane’s icy breath. And it shows how the warmth of friendship grows cold in the clasp of death. So stand, stand to your glasses steady, and drink to your sweetheart’s eyes.”
Beautiful writing
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I was so scared I dropped my head down on the counter and cried for the first time I could remember.
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I looked all around. There wasn’t any colors anywhere.
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