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@%«~,,,,,, Morning Quiet ,,,,,,~«%@
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@@$$%%†«~, I Sit In My Cubicle In The Work Mill ,~«†%%$$@@
##@@$%†«~, And Feel Somewhat At Peace - I'Ve ,~«†%$@@##
##@@$%†«~, Entered A Bright Anomaly. Morning ,~«†%$@@##
@$$†~~,,,, Liminality. ,,,,~~†$$@
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##@@$%†«~, No One Is Here. There'S Dust In The ,~«†%$@@##
##@@$%†«~, Air. A Strong Light Shines Through The ,~«†%$@@##
##@@$%†«~, Windows, And Turns The Office Into ,~«†%$@@##
##@@$%†«~, Something New. I Pretend It'S The Sun. ,~«†%$@@##
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##@@$%†«~, I Speak With The Plants In My Head. ,~«†%$@@##
@@@@$%†«~, They Are Getting Too Much Water, Or The ,~«†%$@@@@
##@@$%†«~, Water They Get Is Of Dubious Quality. ,~«†%$@@##
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