Halloween has come and gone. The trick or treaters of Dawson City
have devoured most of their loot.
Even the young girl who appeared at our front door riding on a pony.
The pumpkin sits alone atop a garbage stand at the front of a house on Eighth Avenue.
It has been cold. A few mornings ago we awoke to minus thirty-seven.
It is warmer this morning, about minus twenty. A heat wave.
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