There’s a breeze lingering by the window sill and she rubs her arm in defense of the chill. I ask her if she’s cold. Her reply sounds on the inside of my head, making me wonder if either of us had really spoken. Wrapping my arm around her waist I raise her up and carry her to the couch. There are blankets if you need one, I tell her. She only stares into the corners of the room. This time I feel her silence against my skin and I shiver as if she had spoken the chill into life.

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