At some point, even the greatest misery begins to fade. Life, or what passes for life, plods on in it's own unending weary footsteps, and somehow we plod along with it, if we stay lucky.
The woman looked out at the madness of the world and dared to hope. Her eyes were burning coals of stars.
Steam Drills, Treadmills and Shooting Stars - a story of our times -
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The woman looked out at the madness of the world and dared to hope. Her eyes were burning coals of stars.
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