Ten.Eight Hundred & Seventy-One
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No wind. Just cold.
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She asks me if I miss it. Nope. But it sure is pretty to look at.
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What can I do with this lavender without dropping it all over the floor?
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I want to eat the blueberry pie for breakfast.
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It’s saying the El Camino Diable will be 14 minutes slower than Vasco so I reluctantly take the shortest route even though I really want to drive the route with the least amount of altitude—and the slower drivers.
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So cold.
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I apply for the scholarship even though I don’t even know if I can travel in February but I figure I’ve got nothing to lose. And plus, I really want to do. And also, you never get what you don’t ask for. And also, I could totally go to New Orleans twice in two months; i think it would be good for me.
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She says that we talk a lot more at dinner when Dad isn’t here. I laugh and say that she’s right because he’s always just talking to me.
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Laughing fit. I look around at all of their faces and then realize that I actually do like them. They still fight over whose turn it is to sit beside me at dinner. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that it didn’t make me feel a little bit better about myself.
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Her water broke.