There was a nip in the air, a bite, a cold nibble of frost; soon it would be Autumn. Golden brown leaves and spiced apple cider; anticipation of holidays to come, and memories of holidays, which have past. Sadly, Summer lingered a little bit longer, and the nights were still hot and stuffy.
I have this hope that each day and each year will be better and brighter than the one which preceded it; the years have not met my expectations and have not stopped moving forward, but neither have my hopes.
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