A quiet place at 4 a.m., a place I can claim to myself because no one else is nearby to claim it with or instead of me. A place that isn't here but is in the space between the moon and the clouds, clouds moving in for another wintry day of snowfall. The quiet between places, between the simple past and the present future. A place with one moment to spare, to ready oneself, to home in. A place to admire impermanence.
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