"Like what?" he sighed, wiping his glasses on the tail of his 100% cotton Land's End shirt and gazing vaguely at the window, which was framed by a red garland and a string of tiny white lights; the window itself was sprayed with a thick layer of fake frost, a feeble attempt at producing a "Christmassy" atmosphere in the 70+ degree Houston weather. His mind began to drift off to the days when he would carve his initials in the real frost on the window of his parents' New England farm home, when suddenly he was interrupted by her reply.
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