tiny crab apples scattered on the street
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a strange vehicle coming through the fog. sound first, seen only when almost upon you. like in one of those apocalyptic future movies
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fog droplets breaking the cloak of invisibility of a million spiderwebs, creating a bejeweled necklace for an otherwise very prosaic black fence
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a silent walk down the canal, punctuated by the sporadic ringing of bicycle riders
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fog, fog and more fog.
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