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Of a sudden the sky erupts in a dancing cauldron of color. From one bent circular horizon to the other, the sky engulfs the stunned and lonely man at the edge in a radius of painted light. Lavender lime tinted and glowing to a chrome lemony haze, running to cantaloupe coral and blazing salmon and peach with a tincture of radiant apricot orange, swirling here and there to inky indigo, then thrusting upward to beads and buttons of sapphire and teal and plunging to small jade windows of royal blue; swirling shafts of diffused light, whipped like butter, falling to the soft caramel bonanza of flaxen brilliance at the bottom of the world, a luminous tower of plump pink and rose blush weaving here into garnet vermillion and diving there into infrared magenta; then a hiatus here to gratuitous gray heather, and there chasing the smoky somber pallid pearl and gold and waxen buff-brown of distant dust; and all splashed negligent across the silk seascape collage of the infinite. God's abstract expressionism rendered with beguiling force.

     The vaudville sky. There is something gaudy about that graffiti on the heavens. Something unknowable and perhaps evil. Something about it is too much--overwhelming to the limited human imagination...

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