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... ca Sampietro, Lost in a Weird City
People push past me, chattering, drifting. The press of the crowd is like a slow tide, warm and stinking of spices and sweat, and threatening to pull us all deeper into this sandstone ocean. But it’s all just white noise to me now as I try to catch what I had seen a few moments ago.
The blue babushka. No. That blue babushka.
Joseph had led us into another square of merchant stands and shops. He had pulled me towards something th ...
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