Bindings Part 1: To Feel Cold and Poor

Ignoring winter’s passive beauty, I shrug off evening’s cold and look around. I am alone in Kendall Square.

“Just me,” I whisper.

“Just me,” echoes darkness.

I walk a few steps and yell to the buildings forming an unscalable canyon, “Happy Christmas to all and to all a good night!”

Falling snow catches my words and gobbles them up. Hoping for an echo, I am disappointed.

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