Under the Culvert

We draw ever nearer to our allotted span of time, bidding it farewell as it trails off behind. Repeating, often adroitly, the endless deeds of the everyday. Leaving behind a feeling of immeasurable emptiness.

Friday, June 10, 2005

the city sleeps

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the city sleeps.
Posted by intrasingence at 2:53 AM

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