Woke up to cars transformed into man tou, those plain buns my dad would steam up and shove in my hands during the early morning rush to school. French cars are rounder than American ones, I think, which makes them ready-made for man tou transformation.
Strong sunlight on snow makes everything look oddly hotter.
Everywhere, the city being slowly covered by powered sugar. My boots end up with chunky snow hats at the toes.
And as night falls, I could see my apartment in the landscape outside.
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