Array
(
[text] =>

The coach was back from the cold he had suffered for a day.

Chris feared not being able to stop and stare, have an exchange of glances and smiles again.

But he was sure to glance back that way, even when his legs moved ahead.

He jogged at his common speed, hitting the spot at the exact time, turning his head to the window. Only to find it closed.

He frowned the rest of his jog.

The day was cold.

His sun hadn't risen.

[text_hash] => 9cb183b8
)