snippet from untitled writing
untitled writing
the city of portland held its breath. all was quiet as dark decended, the streets were void of people or any usual commotion. it was shadowfall, a calm, quiet moment where night seeped into the world and freed day of its duty. this was when a silent wind would careses with the tenderness of a nuturing mother the lost people of the city-such as hookers, runaways and bums-

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