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” ... the smell of burning leaves in cobblestone streets, a rustle of darkness... sounds of a distant city... the street blew rain from solitude of morning, mixture of dawn and dream in doorways, surges of silence ebbing..."

"Word falling, Photo falling... Defectors from the Nova Mob - just time - just time - just time" –

"Electric storms of violence sweep broadcast still in progress... Word falling, Photo falling..."

"Distant music to crown a god with street dust... Word falling, Photo falling... Nothing is true, Everything is permitted... the city moved in swirls and eddies and tornadoes of image. . .”

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