And hallways fill with music and urgency. Stairs in every direction. I begin to regret feeling the way I felt last year, it was so indulgent, after all-- with spinning sunrises and late nights in other people's orange apartments, scrubbing floors after jetlag and coffee. And the rain.
Today, too, it falls. Not just on roofs, but on beards, and fingertips, and lips drawn with such precision that they seem much darker than they actually are.
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