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Steam rises from a cast iron pot, and the light from the stove shifts and dances on the plumes as they rise, sending the homey smells of a simple meal out into the kitchen. A long time ago, a little girl looked up from her book and watched the shining dust swirling in the air, the particles reflecting light from the window, in a dance that seemed it would never end. Times change, times change, and we can’t go back (we can’t go back, we can’t go back…)

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