Remembering late December's winter evening, your face in the stained glass window, cardamom tea and prayer rugs, the black dog with almond eyes, route 9 under the night sky, Greenfield and Federal Street, homebrewed beer, wooden floors and socialist sentiment, making our plans in The House of Love, clock strikes 12, Cinderellas frantically try on their glass slippers, as Friday's princes become pumpkins soon to roll awkwardly down Saturday's streets....
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