Yellow halogen glare blazes down upon the invited. Everyone is invited, whether they can afford it or not. They don't notice the artifice, the headache, the pumped air. No, the mirage of oasis tempts them away.
Never mind that they've left the lush greenery to come here. Why admire what you've got when there's always something else you could have instead? Such is the appeal of this desert of silica and glass.
Stop off at the old watering hole; scavenge on dry bones. Then back to the search, the trawl through the white linoleum sands, for the illusions of beauty. New artefacts tempt with the same old artifice.
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