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MY TRASH PLaNET

©  WRiTER oN THe MoON

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Prologue

Everything has been reduced to the blinding glare of the shopping windows and the dead light of phone screens.

You are fading and dying staring at a fucking screen.

There it goes: I used to abduct people.

(Sending drawing...)

(Downloading...)

WTF? Do you see a Christmas Tree like I do?

13%...

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Hold on for a second! My drawing is not downloading at the desired speed.

98%...

99%...

100%. 

Download complete.

Now!

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Then I returned them on grass and clover.

They created religions.

They misrepresent.

Fear.

Fear.

Fear.