The Sunday Whirl

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The ancient ruins lay ahead of me, and I lace up the stitched cloak tighter around my neck. Icy winds continue, curling around on the ground causing small sandy whirlwinds. The drive from the local village is not so far away and I’ve made this trip many times. In the wintry atmosphere, I feel the spirits more clearly, as if they wait for the summer visitors to leave, and are then unafraid to commune with me.

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Wordle 680

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