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One day, one page, one sketch of GREAT EXPECTATIONS, published daily at 8:40 AM.

370The time has gone through the garbage disposal, and with it the corrupted memories. I turned the switch on so the detritus goes down the drain, all the way to the sewage, where it belongs, washed away with someone’s putrid bodily fluids. it has slipped through without a trace. I don’t even remember what this writing is about.

 

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  1. March 30, 2014

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