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October 22, 2001
He’s the first thing I see in the morning. My man of strength. He arrives on cue, without variance. Always at the time I need him most: early fall. Shimmering down on me, telling me that all’s well as long as he’s in the sky.

My main man, Orion.

I walk out of the house at dawn, peer up and he’s over-looking my every move. It’s unclear when I first fell in love with him. Or exactly why. Except he’s easy to identify in a crowded sky of stars. And he’s brilliant enough to shine through the city’s light pollution.