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Where am I

On the streets I am assaulted by the sounds of traffic and music, shouting and the hustle and bustle of determined crowds. There seem to be few rules on the road - shouldn't they stop on red?

I hail a taxi to the river. On the boat I gaze up at the lone woman in aquamarine. She has her hands full.

Theatres and restaurants beckon. Eventually I take a pony and trap back to the hotel. By the park, I see the signs. "Danger. Keep out after dusk." Scaremongering? There's no one around to ask - that's the answer to my query.

Gazing down from my hotel window I can see the grid. It makes me nauseous and I discover I have vertigo.

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