Outside, there was that predawn kind of clarity, where the momentum of living has not quite captured the day. The air was not filled with conversation or thought bubbles or laughter or sidelong glances. Everyone was sleeping, all of their ideas and hopes and hidden agendas entangled in the dream world, leaving this world clear and crisp and cold as a bottle of milk in the fridge.
from The Selected Works of T. S. Spivet by Reif Larsen
// putting simple observations and states of reality into fascinating words is an amazing talent shared by many great writers
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