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  • The fabricated glow of Sin City abdicated to the natural neon of the City of Angels. Arriving at both for spectacular sunclipses, the breath is taken by the cold irony of keno* machines at one, while the emptiness of the other is simultaneously masked and filled by the breathless beauty of warm color swashes of the smog skies that would be questionable as their counterpart of dyed swatches woven into boardwalk beach towels. On a westward private lane on the 10, the bought luxury of the Strip proved extortionate against the given luxury of simply being in Los Angeles.

    *In Greek, keno means empty.
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