Narrow your
eyes and November is quotemarks around the norm named November. Songs to saints
take over from squeals of trick or treat. The cup sweep shuffles names destined
for green pastures or the glue factory. The humidity is accented with the
fragrance of roses. Our intense teenagers have heads full of exam and will the
questions be, like, okay? Unseasonal nativities and blow-up santas reintroduce
themselves to shopping plazas. Then “unquote”, fingers apostrophising air with
the vague assurance “November” has been summarised, we know what you mean and
any further questions are unnecessary and take November far too literally.
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