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Weekly Contest #75
We were little. Frail. Small beings with bright enough sparks to make him want to dim them. Sure, the terrifying past somehow aligned our narrow existences together and we wouldn’t be anything we are today without his rough, manipulative molecular hands. Before our little bright opticals we stared into the pinnacle of what he called improvements, things that could (but he firmly believed would) change us eventually into something borderline...perfection. I can’t say I believed him. But, I digress. Why wonder aloud, why speak nonsensical ...
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