"Do we look like little green men?" One woman passed a crate of olive oil along the wharf in a human chain.
"Sing us a few notes of a newer song! We can't remember any music."
"Yeah that happened to us in the late seventies."
"You lived here?"
"Naw, New York."
"Same life everywhere. All over the world."
Dried tomatos. Lightly passed along.
"Sing we need an angel music."
Someone started humming.
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