I've watched the sun go down over and over again, night after night, from a chair by the window, as I nursed her to sleep. The view never gets old, the sky never ceases to amaze, the golden, gleaming onion dome matches the sky as the burning orb dips down, out of sight, never out of mind, somehow always making it around to the other side to start anew.

You can always count on the stars.

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