The foundations were firm.
Two trees provided shade, they had been there for fifty-five years.
Spirit vendors offered people the essence of…people, an illegal thing for sure.
At the far side of the duct a conversation could be heard by anyone passing by.
The smiling faces of meditating roller bladers were the last image I had of the place as I left, and that’s the one I choose to remember.
Another fine journey.
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