It's almost Eight in the evening, I had fallen asleep and awoke completely freaked out - still half-dreaming and confused about where and when I am. The rain is pounding, literally pounding on the skylight outside my room, and it seems to be switching to pea sized chunks of ice in waves of a few minutes long. I keep listening for signs of life - and all I hear is the rain, echoing through the barren rooms. I went up to the attic, it's sloping roof lined with two windows that catch the ice and rain and listen to the rhythmic patter. I keep reminding myself that this is the time and the place to let go, but I find myself struggling with the goodbye.
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I really like the way you write, and your astute observations. Someday I will visit the Netherlands, at least I hope to