I loved biking through the little snow story yesterday. I was wearing my new down sweater and the flakes just bounced off. The storm was as small as a bad mood and you could see it float away toward Staten Island. Why can't we have more snow right now? There were a few people on the bridge but I was suddenly alone and the snowflakes were swirling along the wooden walkway of the bridge in little spirals like curls of hair. And when I looked up into the wind, the snow flakes touched my lashes and touched each other and there was then a solid connection between me and the top of the sky.
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