The Sutro Tower is standing in a sea of fog right now, poking out through the top and blinking.
Blink. Blink. Blink.
I miss living near the tower. I miss the giant all-seeing, all-knowing ladder of metal and electricity. I miss the foggy soup. I miss the blinking.
Blink. Blink. Blink.
Now, my tower is a giant eucalyptus tree that stands in my backyard. Now, my tower sheds giants pieces of bark on to the Japanese maple that resides below it. Now, my tower has roots so massively thick and strong that they are pushing the bricks and pavement up, out, and away, disrupting the ground around it. Now, my tower has created a new terrain and when the wind blows, it cre-e-e-e-eaks.
Blink. Blink. Blink.
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