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I read the mood of the wind. I can see the questions in the air. I can feel the breeze's intent.
And tonight we bunker down.
A storm is coming. The wind is ill. This is the worst I've ever felt.
This isn't the kind of storm that blusters and pelts you with rain & hail. This isn't the kind of wind that rips the roofs off homes.
Tonight something darker is coming. It's whirling up from the south & pushes death like a bow wave in front of it.
So we bunker down.
And hope for tomorrow.

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