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The Magnificence of Eggplants.
I admire their beauty. I MARVEL at it. The smooth (duh), brilliant surface of the flawless, deep purple skin reflecting under the dim, fluorescent light shining from a lackluster ceiling above in the less-than-fresh produce section at your local grocery store. For a minute you feel it, so you stare down solemnly at your used and abused leather converse, quietly pasted on the streaked linoleum floor.

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