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'I talk to the moth caught in the car. Driving past heat-mottled dams whiskered with reeds. I tell him about the fog of the day before. It was not just any fog, but a time-fluxing sea fog outrolling the waves, creeping over neap-tide ledges, tickling the glossy anemones with its smoky edges. It made silhouettes of the gods.' (Introduction)
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Last amended 23 Jun 2017 06:59:59
