On the season's first cold, windy day. A cloudy morning. Slips into a cloudy afternoon.
And it's still windy.
I look outside.
And I declare it's romantic.
And he asks me.
I cross the threshold. And my feet feel the cold under them.
I step back.
And it's warm again.
I flit from the warm to the cold, and back.
Guess it's true. It's always warm indoors. And cold outside.
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