"Nor could it always have been dusk at 5:42, though that is what I recall its being, and the inrush of outside air he brought with him as cold, and scented with burnt leaves and the sad way the street smelled at twilight, when all of the houses became this amenities color and all of their porch lights came on like bulwarks against something without name."
— Dec 16, 2025 07:36AM
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