We all dream of the Eiffel Tower. A kiosk halfway to the sky. Where you can buy paper aeroplanes, burnt sugar-coated peanuts, dense rolls of newspaper, shiny magazines and innumerable keyrings in the shape of the Eiffel Tower. You can probably buy a stamp on the Eiffel Tower to affix to your postcard showing the very same site. I would like to write to the tower. It might be the beginning of a flirtatious correspondence. I know it has been married before.
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