I come when you remember me.

[marius]

Snow turned to slush and the lake cracked under the heat, thin sheets of ice succumbing to the waves. I juggled a pack of Dunhills in my hand, fumbling for the lighter with the other. The warmest day in six months rode in on a gap in the clouds, melting our ice and thawing our faces. The city chose this morning to remind me that, yes, spring was

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[cinquevolte]

there he is. there's my friend, whom i've known for years.