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Wond'rous star lend thy light

I'm three days late, but everything else is on time.

I pulled on my cosiest fleece and headed out into the dark. The melancholic cello struck up as I passed the violin shop. I count one hundred and ten Christmas trees. Laughter drifted down from bedroom windows. Wood-smoke danced with a cold mist on the square.

But the things I noticed most were the stars, their bright light punching through the fog. Familiar shapes, sometimes guiding lights.