The Distant Machine
The building does not breathe, but I can hear it settling into the earth, a low, tectonic groan that vibrates through the soles of my shoes and up into the marrow of my bones. It is a structure of impossible geometry, a cathedral of glass and steel that pierces the gray November sky, standing isolated on a concrete island in the center of the city. I am standing at its base, looking up, and I...
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