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technological apocalypse (Remove filter)

claret

I was meeting her at the end of the road

The sun blasted through the Rorschach leaves of the maple trees

Bursting through in spots and splatters

Throwing a Jackson Pollock on the walls of the factory

The scream and wheeze of people felt as alien as ever

Everyone looking down

At the screens of self imposed loneliness

They held in their hands

Suddenly from the monochrome hord...

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technological apocalypse

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