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  • Cacti crawl around the path up Mount Lykabetos. They have thick, oval leaves, vaguely fleshy to the touch, studded with spines. On these pale green leaves, thousands of people have carved their initials. Most pair, some push at each other, others have grown white and dry with age. As I walk up the hill, through this strange, botanic graffiti, the initials fall apart into an alphabet, an alphabet that repeats itself until I am surrounded by every possible name, every possible couple. In this way, the hill is a mirror of the city.

    Annie Correal
    Greece 2001
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