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Looking at it, there are divisions; feeling it, there are no divisions. The two ends are cold as ice; the middle is as hot as a flame.
A series of pages, each full of squares, each square labelled with a number What am I?
▶ I am the ✨ one ✨ thing that 🤩 is always 🤩 made obsolete by 🤩 the end of 🤩 the year.
It dies every day and lives every year.
What can hold all days, weeks, and months but still fit on a table?
No matter how little or how much you use me, you change me every month what am i?
A section of the calendar dedicated to mother nature
Its days are numbered
No matter how little or how much you use me, you change me every month
My days are numbered—what am I?
When clocks and calendars both agree, what story was meant to be?
What is something that every day has but never truly remains the same?
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