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December 27, 2010
The lights flow out from the window like an ocean. An ocean of souls, fading and getting brighter in turn like waves in moonlight. At the edge of the world, the mountains build upon each other, up and up and up like a wall of black water. Fewer and fewer souls climb that wall, and in the end, the tips are bare and alone.

The moon bends down, her hair of clouds brushing the skin of the earth and presses her lips to the tops of the houses.

Sleep in peace, good souls. Sleep and dream and wander the night.