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He is on the right side of the frame, looking left. Should be looking up. Should reach up, see if someone stuck a 的 do up there, top of his ヘルメット. But he is distracted. Across the sand, he hears marching music, wonders if residual minerals in the soil make this sort of place into a giant ラジオ receiver... just as certain silver amalgams have the rumored property of allowing people with lots of dental work to actually feel the words of the morning, afternoon, and evening ラジオ newsnetworks, right in their jaws. |
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