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September 25, 2013

CLANCHE. A droplet film hangs in the air about the city, made to hold by some god or other, a curtain through which we move and so drape ourselves and collect crystalline points on our persons, those collected being replaced by others from above or below, forward or behind, as though the air were completely filled and the disappearance of one immediately made up for by the moving of another to take its place, the shifting mass of water hanging on those stragglers moving through the drear.

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