Falling back

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Fall has arrived and the sun shines for me. I ignore the crackle of dead leaves beginning to accumulate beneath my feet. Not ready, not me. The sun shines for me, you see, and the seasons can wait. I will just keep looking up. When the trees rain on my face, I will imagine them sun-wind and sand from the white sea beach where I stand. When the smell of dead earth wafts into my nostrils, I will imagine it has just rained in Violet's jungle. The sun shines for me. It shines for me, said she . . .
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