literature

Passing

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Literature Text

I can hear the machine coming and then she is passing by, not even knowing my existence, an orange glow in the eye. And then when a cold wind seems to flow through me, she is gone. And the sound of the metal-walking thing echoes from the walls made of stone which surrond me, not able to hear anything else. The other sounds were gone, eaten by the machine every voice, every sound, every tiny little thing. Where are they going? Tell me, where are they going?
Written by me. Inspired by .hornet. from *noah-kh :)

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