The tower.

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In the tower they sat, looming over the cracked city and beyond that, the massive expanse of desolate dunes. From their perch they could see nothing but sky and possibility and they planned and schemed and rubbed their hands together. But down below the foundations of the tower creaked and groaned and weeds, like tentacles pulled at ancient stone. Birds flew to their window and sang ballads of the sights they had seen; an attempt to share the wisdom of those who have travelled. But no one understood their language and soon they left again in frustration.

 

In the tower they sat and in the distance the sun set.
 


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