My thoughts are lined with the cold season. I see foggy streets on a winter morning, the concrete slightly glistening of frost, the vapor following a mug of coffee. Every tiniest piece of warmth covered in gloves, bright rooms with closed door and windows, and within the bodies, shrunk and hurried. And the dark green of the conifers.
I'm slowly getting sick of excess of the Gilmore Girls, but I keep watching. And now I know: Lauren Graham. It's all because of her.
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