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uncle

sitting on the boulevard eating cold noodles, its late september and summer has crept away. the sea is full, swelling and pounding against the wall with growls like great thunderstorms; spraying and folding over itself, straining at the barriers that hold it in. At Hellsmouth a great black wave rises and falls into grey and green gradients. the debris of summer teeming with flies black and buzzing. everything melts away. i woke up this morning with a cosmic wound.

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