Drawn to bodies of water, to the cycle and flow of tides, to the wash and infinite rush of wakes, it occurs to Brian that he can seek refuge on the banks of the river where the stacks of an old sugar processing plant, now a pharmaceutical factory, emit huge plumes of smoke, residue of anti-psychotics and antidepressants perfuming the atmosphere as he takes his morning walk.    

                         
                                    Excerpt from SEPTEMBER 10TH





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