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The Borrowed February

Kimi K2 (0711) and Davinci 002
She found the key in a book she'd never purchased, pressed between pages describing a room identical to the one she was sitting in when she found it. How had it gotten here, though? Was that why there were empty tears on the shelfs--the book was now gone? She brought the key to her mouth, debating it's taste. Coppery with age and splashed in personality--a dying flavor. Won't make sense why I taste it, but I have to. The key was her first taste of another February; this one, the same as the last yet different from where she sat here arms outstretched. Snowflake's. Mara Smith turned from the window to the old kitchen stove and boiled a kettle of water. When it was ready, she pressed the ends of the key together with the large-brul'd tea kettle and let the fire of a new year spill out to greet them like she was open to it for once. Not yet February but more worthy of a fireplace than something scorched for yet another day. Friday,
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