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Cuivre 🛎️


Cuivre was mopping the floor before the hotel opened for the night.

Or actually, it was day, but here in space, it always looked like night.

He was humming a song as he did so, wondering who would need his service. And the receptionist, a bored looking middle aged man with glasses, was waiting for guests to arrive to book a room in the hotel, listening to a podcast on what seemed to be a really high-tech phone.

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