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Ritual compresses ambiguity
“That is what I am measuring.”
“Alright,” Yara said. “Let’s begin.“
But look at the curve of the fruit
Words were still there—precise, available, intact
She hesitated. There was one other diagnostic she could run
Events are rearranged, symbols condensed
If he wasn’t careful, the day would dissolve
Ritual supplies that permission.
He stopped a few paces short.
They were pinned with her charcoal sketches
It was a complex spiral of translucent violet petals

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