not a single one like the other

The sky cried snowflakes as we departed in the dark for the train station. My eyes were damp, mostly from the snowflakes that stopped short of my protruded tongue as I stared upward in disbelief at some of the largest, lightest crystals I have set eyes upon. This has been a brilliant week in yet another new country (adding an additional port of call to my “might return eventually” list), but my bed and the the superbowl are calling me home. At least for two nights.

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