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The water laps against the stone gentle but forever.
The stone gives way slowly, gratefully, with pleasure and
relief.
You realize that you are almost overwhelmed with fatigue, here in the darkened moon-bright city. The ship suggests, with its patient gentle motions at the pier, that sleep is possible, that change is possible, that the sun is casting sharp shadows somewhere on the sand, on buildings of mirrored glass, and that mute objects have a beneficent interest in your salvation.
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