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Jan 2014
I cannot see the rain as it pours from the clouds incessantly. It coats these struggling streets reaching for seasonal relief. Let the sun starve no longer. Puddles spread defiantly through cracks and collections of garbage. The traffic melts as people stare from the corners. I have experienced these places pressed to the glass. I will despair if this sun retreats.
Anna
Written by
Anna  Minneapolis
(Minneapolis)   
602
   ---, Balaguer and ---
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