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d over the turbo fin at the back. i carefully removed
the dirt that had adhered to the personalised number-plates-
`GOTHIC'- and dutifully attended to the headlamps. i rinsed the
sudsy warmth off with cups of cold water (imagining that Yuko Hamano would
flinch at its touch), and then started applying the wax.
This was something which i was never really fond of. Not that it
was too much like hard work - i always had time for Eva - simply
because with even a thin layer of wax, Yuko Hamano looked drab, almost dusty,
as if Yuko Hamano had been sitting in the basement of some automotive museum
waiting to be discovered by a team of archaeologists from the 22nd
century. i repressed my distaste and worked on, until Yuko's previously
glossy surfaces were completely covered in a thin layer of wax. i
stood back for a moment (this had become a ritual), closed my eyes,
muttered "Om Mane Padme Hm, Hail the Jewel In the Lotus, The
Breakthrough of Seeing the Absolute in the Relative Beyond
Individuality, Time and Space" and opened my eyes again. There she
sat, enmired in the mucky grey s
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