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emptyharbour

A tiny town on the praries, long dead and best forgotten

Member Since 2005

Followers 6 Following 20

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Friday Oct 10, 2008

Oct 10, 2008
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I spent the morning loading up the car. I can see my breath all the time now, and my fingers grow numb quickly in muted Autumn light. Dying leaves afoot; accusing trees whisper at me with every puff of Western wind called down from the mountains. It's Fall - the death of a year and the most marked change of any of my seasons. I used to love the Fall. This year, it feels more like some aged postcard; worn and yellowed and devoid of any sort of real warmth or experience.

I'm gone, for awhile. I don't know where I'm going. I'm not sure it matters.

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