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Weekly Contest #77
The snow falls steadily onto the ground, the white flakes drifting down as if it has forever. With a smokey-grey fog covering the sky and a gentle winter wind whistling through the trees, Hazel sat in her maroon armchair, a soft knitted grey blanket spread across her lap. She looked out at the window, its frames cracked and broken, the paint chipped and old, and sighed in longing for everything that she had lost. She remembered what it was like when she was just a little girl and the world had gifted her with a miraculous winter wonderland, ...
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