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The night air had a chill, just enough to promise that the seasons continued to turn. It was her favorite time of year because of that promise, and because of what that promise meant for her. The young woman smiled, gazing up at the stars over the bus stop. The country was so quiet at night and she would miss her mother some, but the city called to her heart and her soul just as it did every year. She shouldered her bag and watched two children run and play under their mother’s watchful gaze. They’d noticed the chill now, their breath fogging in the air. He would be here soon to take her home. She brushed her fingers through her hair, checking to be certain the brightly red flower she’d left was still there. They always brought each other something small, just a token of the life they led when the other wasn’t around.
The black car pulled up to the curb and the woman smiled brightly, love shining in her eyes as he stepped around to open the door for her. Her bag on the seat, he pulled her into his arms. She leaned against him, taking in his scent of lilies and orchids. He kissed her forehead gently.
“Welcome home.”

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