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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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#%^†«.,,,, #,# ,,,,.«†^%#
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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. ,,,.«†^%##
#%^†«.,,,, ,,,,.«†^%#
%^†«.,,,,, 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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