the worker people out front must have stayed up all night digging around, putting in wiring and installing the little fences --- and the other worker people were up bright and early climbing all over what was the tall radio tower, which they will have disappeared from view entirely within the hour
Posted by tomitron at 11/20/2010 09:51:00 AM
Each of us is all the sums he has not counted: subtract us into nakedness and night again, and you shall see begin in Crete four thousand years ago the love that ended yesterday in Texas.
The seed of our destruction will blossom in the desert, the alexin of our cure grows by a mountain rock, and our lives are haunted by a Georgia slattern, because a London cutpurse went unhung. Each moment is the fruit of forty thousand years. The minute-winning days, like flies, buzz home to death, and every moment is a window on all time.
john northbrooke, c. 1570
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