Part One: Rotten Weather

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Outside the frosted window, soft flakes fall gently to the Earth, creating a sort of blanket over the yellowing lawn.  Clusters of blackbirds flit listlessly between skeletal arms of pale sleeping trees. The sky itself hides behind a disguise of grays and whites, interrupted only by scant revelations of pale, pure blue. Across the way sits the stately side of the university. Weather-worn bricks frame thin window panes, while dying leaves and ivy climb its walls. The winter wind blows harshly against the glass, which emanates a faint whistling sound. I reach out and touch the pane, pressing my palm to it. The cold seeps into my palm, seeping down into my wrist. Withdrawing my hand from the window, I turn back to face the room. A few simple cots are placed neatly about the room, their linen sheets a crisp cream. Various bookshelves are placed intermittently about, their shelves packed with volumes of varying shape, size, and color. On one of the cots sits Alice, her limbs strewn about, a finger lazily bending the corner of a page in her book. She glances up at me briefly, brown eyes peeking out from behind her thick-rimmed glasses.
"Admiring the weather?" She asks, passing her tongue quickly over her lips before returning her eyes to the page.
"I suppose." I reply, taking a seat in the armchair nearest me. I drape my legs over the armrest before continuing, "It is truly rotten weather, though."
"And why is that?" She lifts her eyes to meet mine. I hold her gaze for a moment before shifting my eyes to her book.
"The plants have all died, the animals have all gone. Nature seems... sadder, somehow." I pause, reflecting on the scene outside. "The sky has hidden itself, which prompts one to think to oneself 'ah, the sky itself must be brilliant, then, for nothing so totally hidden isn't brilliant', but when it does reveal itself, as it will in a few days, all that is there is an endless blue sea. Endless blue-"
"How ridiculous!" She declares, tossing her book to the floor. "I suppose we shall petition Mother Nature to rid the world of winter, then?" She gracefully lifts herself from the cot, crossing the room to the window.
"I suppose we'll have to." I reply, a light blush coming upon my cheeks. She stares out the window, the light accenting the pale redness of her lips, and I watch her stare, observing the focus on her face, the intensess in her eyes. Suddenly she turns to look at me and suddenly I feel observed, and I am observed and I watch her as she scrutinizes me.
"I agree with you, though." She moves to exit the room, her hand lighting upon the doorknob as I ask, "What?", standing, as though to follow. She pauses.
"It is rotten weather." And with that, she exits, leaving me standing on my own.

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