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Human condition

Skeletal remains of burnt and blackened trees hiss by the open window, down to cool the wet air heavy and thick with humidity. Plumes of red powdery dust explode from tyres pounding the rough dirt road, snaking through hills older than time itself, unable to tell stories of an age long forgotten, just black and silent, giant and ominous against the eery blue sky, marked with inky clouds sprawling ...

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