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Aug 2020
Wood dry and crackling, fireworks for two.
Flames amber auburn, Heating up the room.
Mugs of tea and old books, Reading on the floor.
Blankets thrown over our knees, Our sleepy fire roars.
Snuggled up and toasty, Our dog now sound asleep.
Sunday afternoons like this are my favourite kind of dream.
Written by
Anna Josephine
52
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