Thomas stood, bracing himself against the wind which was now fleeting directly towards him and moaning a great and terrible warning. As he shielded his eyes from the storm that was quickly enveloping the fresh warm outlets of The Island - the light of The Dome blinked ... blinked again ... and then remained on. Warmth began to return to the space around his flesh. The air dropped its sudden assault and the snow merely fell harmlessly in lines to the ground.
technorati | nanowrimo
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