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this reminds me of a sentence in Paul Auster's City of Glass:
"Every once in a while, he would suddenly feel what it had been like to hold the three-year-old boy in his arms - but that was not exactly thinking, nor was it even remembering. It was a physical sensation, an imprint of the past that had been left in his body, and he had no control over it."
the demolished buildings leave their ghostly imprints on the city
Posted at 2:43AM, 20 July 2006 PDT
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