update from sparkleup

writing/post-self/marsh/prophecies.html

@@ -47,7 +47,7 @@
 <p>When they stepped out into Infinite Café, though, it was the same bright, midsummer&rsquo;s noon as it always was there. The light came from everywhere and nowhere, and their shadows sat just beneath their feet. It was the perfect temperature — no matter who you were, no matter your preferences, it was always perfect — and it was as packed as ever.</p>
 <p>If one percent of the population of Infinite Café was missing, Slow Hours could not tell, and for that she was grateful.</p>
 <p>The sim was dead simple: it consisted of one, long road set into a thin torus. A truly enormous torus: when she looked up, she saw a bright thread directly above them where the road had curved up into an arch hanging in the heavens, and yet the road seemed perfectly flat as far as she could see.</p>
-<p>Lining either side of the street were entrances to cafes. Cafes, coffee shops, doors leading out into libraries with coffee cards, alleyways leading out into sims where coffee was hawked from handcarts, dusty steps leading up into marketplaces where vendors boiled their coffee in their cezves in great vats of sand set over wood fires. Anywhere that served coffee to cladists that wanted was free to create an exit that lead out into Infinite Café, and over the two centuries of its existence, it had grown from a labyrinthine maze of buildings to the ring-road that it was today.</p>
+<p>Lining either side of the street were entrances to cafes. Cafes, coffee shops, doors leading out into libraries with coffee cards, alleyways leading out into sims where coffee was hawked from handcarts, dusty steps leading up into marketplaces where vendors boiled their coffee in their cezves in great vats of sand set over wood fires. Anywhere that served coffee to cladists that wanted was free to create an exit that led out into Infinite Café, and over the two centuries of its existence, it had grown from a labyrinthine maze of buildings to the ring-road that it was today.</p>
 <p>She had no clue how it worked, if it really was that big, but the sheer size of the System had been driven home quite effectively over the last few weeks — 23 <em>billion</em> dead! The number remained surreal — so she was hopeful that there were no tricks involved, no attempts to make it look bigger than it was.</p>
 <p>She was hopeful that all of these people here on this relatively crowded street were real, not constructs or illusions. She hoped they found coffee and friends and loved ones and long-lost selves.</p>
 <p>A gentle touch to her shoulder brought her back to the present. She looked over to If I Dream, then followed her gaze to the center of the thoroughfare.</p>