Frost painted the cardboard blanket. Sun rays peeked over a sparse wooded horizon and twinkled off the frosted shelter. The sun delivered little relief from the heartless cold of dawn. The city streets, which lay just past the wood's edge, remained silent but for a faint, harmonious sound.
Through the woods a beautiful carol resonated. “They're coming,” the man thought, as he cheerfully peered through the layers of cardboard. How he loved Christmas morning.
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