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I remember I was at the beach, but my vantage point was high in the air. Either I was at the top of a cliff, or flying above the crowds. There were gigantic waves crashing against the beach. The beach was wide, which meant the waves weren’t causing much in the way of destruction but the sight remained awe-inspiring.

A voice was telling me about the mechanism behind these waves, and it was important somehow.

Chris S.
Anomalist, esperantist, cyclist, typist, dodecaphile, ailurophile, and oneiromancer. Chris lives near the shore with his wife, cats, and the Jersey Devil in his backyard.

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