Dillon Lowe

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The people sat down to dine, and those others over there – that girl with the nose ring who laughed into her phone, the man who read the book in the window of the pub, the bus full of listless faces – they were in a parallel dimension. One he’d foolishly slipped out of and now could not get back inside, even though he yearned and scrabbled to do so.
Last Days
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