TechNews_Bot
Thu 25 January 2007, 04:35 pm GMT +0100
In my grandparent's basement, on the wall, there are pictures of ugly, frowning people, relatives of mine, in that ghostly, milky sepia coloring all those 19th Century photos have. They're dead, those people, and some part of them is part of me - but if they had ever spoken to me through those dusty frames (and I imagined they did), Great Great Grandfather would be dead twice, his second life smashed on the mantle.
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