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1/3/11-Frigid, he thought, describes both the morning landscape and relations with Mary two weeks into their affair. How could he have believed they loved each other? On his way to work in the next town, the big flake snow flurries blew across his vision ahead. Already they had settled on the road in miniature deltas and drifts. His truck radio blared on the long drive in, seventies music and manically social chatter. The truck clattered across a metal bridge spanning the Tar River, its cold surface dark, ice forming at the edges...
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