I think we were still living in Texas (1983? 1984? that sound right?) when I saw "Floyd Farland, Citizen of the Future" in the shop and purchased it. I liked that he was working in a style that avoided outlines, and the story was intriguing as well. Yes indeed, we would hear more from that young man, I said. And today, of course, I bitterly envy his skill and ambition, as do we all. The end.
Crudely maybe? Or both. Could be both.
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