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A Holus-bolus Odyssey

The page remained unblemished across the night, waiting for letters. But then why sniffle a haiku When one can weep a sea? The peepal tree has a new, green sheath. It shimmers and quivers in the barely felt breeze. Everywhere around it is nothing but baked dust, caked fields, and brittle blades of what once […]



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A Holus-bolus Odyssey

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