It was a morning when the fog lay low on the grass. Dew formed on the fingertips that handed me the leash.
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Late Frost
There were mornings when the winter sun rose over the willow by the water, and our fingertips froze. Back then, instead of leashes, our hands found each other in our pockets.
There were mornings when the winter sun rose over the willow by the water, and our fingertips froze. Back then, instead of leashes, our hands found each other in our pockets.