Tuesday, 16 January 2024
It is 11pm and the sky is white with snow.It has been impossibly cold for two daysand like a fever, the sky has brokeninto flakes of ice.In the flat across from me, golden lightsgiggle at the sight of it.My own tinsel and silver crackles acrossthe window glass.It is a beautiful night,it will be a beautiful morning.
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I passed this through some filters to clean it up. We would camp in a village called Adrea. We would return to Calais to shop at...
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Road Trip