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002. An Available Spine of Debauchery
Remoras couldn’t pay for their own drugs — they’d lick your sweat and steal your ideas. If you felt junk sick and ridden by ghost monkeys after an hour of existing in the thin bandwidth of this alien junk scene, then the Remoras would hollow you out more. Egga was a journalist threading a Hunter…
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001. Unicyclist Rainfall
The pneumatic robot had a puncture. There were flip-cats running back and forth across the roads, interrupting the paths of the skim-cars. And he sat there watching them sadly. His memory had been glitching lately, but he knew why the neighbourhood was the place he was visiting. Edward Bulfar had been a hero on Liepglitz,…
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000. French Philosopher On Other Planet
His work was novelty toilet paper. Profundity disposed of between the cheeks and caked in post-digestive brown. He was walking through a crushed glass desert looking at the Waking Flowers which would yawn as the second sun climbed into the sky. He was smoking a reverse cigarette that pumped oxygen into his lungs — it…