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Weekly Contest #52
Winter, like a heartbroken woman, cried out with the howling of bitter winds against the dark night. Snowflakes were her icy tears. No one would ever hear them unless they stopped to listen. Which I did. I related much to winter. The only sun in her life was lost and left her empty, turning her paradise to waste and her color to grey. It seemed like forever that the snow and the cold dragged on. And the memories were the reason why. Much of the time I could imagine him away; occupy my mind with my paintbrushes and easel while I painted the s...
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