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SLEET CALLOUSLY ADORNS MY BEARD
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BINGEWATCHING bOJACK hORSEMAN
A beacon calling from the other side of the road. Snow capped sidewalks post obstacles not too great. Onward we plunder seeking the warmth of a fireplace and a snifter of brandy. The wind whips snow in our faces but the path is clear. Old man winter can take his best shot. Sleet callously adorns my beard and I sigh a deep breath. Soon we’ll be in from the cold.
