I was so caught up in the good feelings I was soaring on, my internal barometer didn’t pick up on the subtle changes in the climate. When I woke Saturday morning, my room had a familiar quietness—the kind of intense quiet that only happens when the ground is covered with snow. The fluttery shadows falling down my wall told me it was still snowing, and I jumped from my bed ready to start the day.
Secrets And Snowball Fights
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