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Assaulted by the sheer amount of humanity crammed inside, I scramble into the snow.

Almost locked outside

Called back in in frustration

I pick an item that will not combust with much energy

Getting hot in here. Claustrophobic. 

Warm children

Too many; mortal sin.

We make silly faces. Twisting features and crossing eyes.

I miss you.

Your gorgeous, haunting eyes.