It's long past midnight as I write this. Stepping outside, it is dead quiet and a thin, fine mist hangs over the whole lot. I'm out so late to do my washing, the machines are outside me dorms. It's cold, damn cold. My fingers feel like ice. Every sound, my naked feet slapping against the pavement, the click of the keypads as I put the code in to unlock the doors. Looking up, over the main hall where everyone spends their time, the moon glows bright, and the thin mists accentuates the orange glow of the light. It looks like fire, the heat imagery not quite fitting the coldness that surrounded me.

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