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7th november - night time – day 7

I dream of a storm that consumes the world.

Death is everywhere; people frozen in the streets like statues.

I fight through it; each flake of snow a bullet against my face.

He stands at its centre.

He looks at me through the swirling winds, his hand over his heart.

"It's frozen," he whispers. "I don't know how to stop it."

"Who are you?" I shout. "Where did you come from? I don't even know your name."

"Help me," he says.

Then I lose him to the storm.

Then I lose him to the storm

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