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None Provided From the mountains, you can see it coming. Time sits on the horizon like rain clouds, craping out. In the cities you carry it near to in your pocket. Time is organized around where you have to be. You frighten off blindly around busy corners, always racing against it. and in the mountains, the world sits on the horizon, refusing to move. Before I always went to the city, I employ to know what that meant. Now I fix up myself trying to remember, waking up every morning to nitty-gritty at the mountains and see what they held. If there were clouds there, you knew there might be rain. But I knew there was something to wait for. I could hold back fourth dimension coming. I returned home because I was still yearn for the clouds to roll over the skyline and the piss to flow from the hills. It was if time was losing her memory, as the city had made me stomach mine. My father used to say, when he would look down at his feet, they look the same, only when the ground is different. I dont know ...If you ask to get a full essay, order it on our website: BestEssayCheap.com

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