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The days of the week each have their own feeling and job Monday: Tired, listless and a couple more cups of coffee than usual: The dreaded day
 I Wake up, With a coffee cup.  Watching the sunrise,  In the mountain highs.
Monday: Day of New-beginnings, clean-slates, a constant reminder of another week of school.
It's cold tonight, Here in this soundless, white-canvased neighborhood. Tiny scratch marks are to be found barely notched into the surface of the snow. A shiver passes over us,
Day one: fall. Orange leaves that crumple under shoes Crazy loud thunderstorms. Is it hot out or is it cold? The ever-falling leaves, like sand in an hour glass My days falling to the ground.
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