Monday, August 03, 2015

First Paragraph

Earth tilted toward six o'clock, the work-day was almost over. Commute discs rose in dense swarms and billowed away from the industrial zone toward the surrounding residential rings. Like nocturnal moths, the thick clouds of discs darkened the evening sky. Silent, weightless, they whisked their passengers toward home and waiting families, hot meals, and bed. 

- From The Chromium Fence by Philip K. Dick

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