Sheffield is a cave for the tide to boom and creak in. It echoes. Echoes.
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Sheffield woke the Kraken with a spit of fire from Vulcan's crucible. It burns.
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Sheffield burned a brewery that bombed, thirsting liquor up Moorhead. It flows.
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Sheffield was a flood that drowned children and teapots, smashed doors and tibias. It kills.
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Sheffield ghosts itself in phantasmographs and cinematography. It is double exposed.
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