This is something that I wrote as I was sitting outside at my school waiting for the bus to come. It was a cold day. The air was dry and the clouds were thick.
"Cold, cloudy days. Crisp, ice cold days. When you have to bundle up in three shirts, two pairs of pants, four pairs of socks, oh and let's not forget the long johns. One word comes to mind. Jazz. Jazz is made for this kind of weather. Its heart and soul lies in the beauty of the dreary, gray clouds and below freezing temperatures and yet in still it gives way to amazing wonders that open your mind to miles and miles of possilities. Yes, that's Jazz...Jazz."
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