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Ice Cold Air
The ice cold air hit my skin
Thin ice under me
I take a deep breath and exhale the smoke.
The gun, even colder by the icy touch of air
Is cocked up next to me, waiting.
The frozen tundra whirling in front of me
I wait.
Then, suddenly a rough object appears in the vast white
Starting circular, then taking form
The gun rises to my eye
I take a deep breath, close one eye, then its done
And I exhale the smoke.
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