Today is June 2, 2010

The eastern sky was an orange streak, and the skyscrapers across the river were like burnished copper, glass windows reflecting the sunset. It was almost as though a massive artist had sculpted blocks of bronze or copper, set it down, and let the dusk close in around it. As though a mirror had been cut into the shape of tall buildings, and set to reflect the sunset.

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*off to finish reading Crime and Punishment, because I am now doomed* The agony that Raskolnikov goes through isn't helping the situation. x.x