PREVIEW
... dding, the clouds were tender streaks drifting at the horizon's edge, like the traces of a lover's fingertips gliding over lips. The wind was a moist veil wafting in from the sea, resembling the lingering, limpid gaze before turning away on a night of confessions.
No matter how many more such bright and cool mornings there would be, none would bring the peace of waking to a bright blue sky outside the window, for the weather always takes on special significance because of one's expectati ...
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