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Galen couldn't help but wince at the noise from the internal combustion vehicle outside the automat. So much noise for so little power, he said to himself. Bit of a bother, that.

Finally the traffic control device lit a different color light and the obnoxious machine and its pilot moved off down the street.

Turning back to his newspapers, Galen considered more coffee, perhaps with the food-like substance they called blueberry pie. More preservatives than an Egyptian mummy, but decadently edible.

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