Excerpt from Folle-Farine
Only the dust: a mote in the air a speck in the light; a black spot in the living daytime; a colorless atom in the immensity of the atmosphere, borne up one instant to gleam against the sky, dropped down the next to lie in a fetid ditch.
Onl... y the dust: the dust that ¿ows out from between the grindstones, grinding exceeding hard and small, as the religion which calls itself Love avers that its God does grind the world.
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