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WILLIAM STEIN

 
Lost, 2015

A pulsing in his temple (led Crepidious onwards).
This time he was sure of it,
but, nevertheless, he held back,

a touch;
just in case.

What was this one for?

Where had it led him?

A very (very!) thin one to the left drank her liquid...
Oh! she is thin.

Ill.

And to the right two shadows stride over, intent on something.
Don't know what...


A flapping skirt.



A working man.




Someone lost.







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