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Like a great ship, this season has run aground. Dawn and dusk alternate at an old man’s pace. I live alone in an area known as the ‘Waterside’, writing a book akin to the Revelations of St. John.
Like a great ship, this season has run aground. Dawn and dusk alternate at an old man’s pace. I live alone in an area known as the ‘Waterside’, writing a book akin to the Revelations of St. John.
