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 It is quite cold.  I am after forty-five years in the house where I lived in my student days.  When I open the cupboard, my coat is lying in it.  There is also a copy of some randomly written poems.  I take off the coat. It gives me a magical feeling.  I put it on and wander into the shadows of the past.  The coat is slightly torn at some places.  But with him the feelings seem to be alive.  In the meantime, my hand goes into the pocket of the coat and a sheet of paper comes in my hand.  I start reading the paper.

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