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ID-0169: SS Sing Low Sweet London

By the next morning, the rain had vanished as quietly as it had come. Fog, which had curled itself like a sleepy cat around the hills and trees through the early hours, had lifted slowly; peeling away in lazy swaths until the world emerged bright and golden once more. Sunlight filtered through the leaves overhead, dappling the ground in warm, shifting patches, and the breeze had returned too, playful and light, tugging at loose strands of Taylor's hair and ripplin...