Blossoms of Estrangement
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Click-clack. Click-clack. Hundreds, no thousands of hurrying feet walk the gray streets of the restless city. Together yet always alone, they march on the cold pavement. And they never stop, the people. Why should they?
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Click-clack. Click-clack. Hundreds, no thousands of hurrying feet walk the gray streets of the restless city. Together yet always alone, they march on the cold pavement. And they never stop, the people. Why should they?