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... matches.
Let’s joyfully sing around the matches.
Until the red hair turns black.
Until the song we were singing ends.
Let’s spin, let’s spin around the matches.
Let’s spin around the matches until they all fall.
***
A winter’s icy road.
The sound of horse hooves and the creaking of carriages passing over were loud.
The northern wind, dry as the harsh road, chilled the already heavy atmosphere of the group.
"It’s tim ...
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