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... me, my hands went through the fog.

One moment they were there, solid and real.

Their shapes are sharp against the air.

And the next they were nothing but a thinning mist that slipped through my fingers.

I felt the cold pass through my palms.

Like touching the early morning air.

And then even that was gone.

I stood still, hands half-raised.

I kept staring at the empty space where they had been.

Lucy slowly came down from the ...

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