The thing isyou don't realizethis is the last timeyou will close the windowsthis year.You close them on a daywhen the sun is sharplike angels' wingsand the air bites your cheeks.You're not thinkingyou should turn the stubborn locksto seal out the fingers of winter frost.You close them one afternoonand then it has been two weeksor fourbefore you noticeyou have been closed in,and closed off,and the long, gray time has begun.

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