When it's dusk at three and the 100-year-old windows weep. And there's snow, crisp and feathery and as fleeting as a native Berliner's smile. Which only comes out when there's snow.
11.28.2008
that time of year
When it's dusk at three and the 100-year-old windows weep. And there's snow, crisp and feathery and as fleeting as a native Berliner's smile. Which only comes out when there's snow.
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