The aqueduct was the greys of antique silver, every hue from light-spun paleness to the colours that brought to the thoughts night's velvet dreams.
The aqueduct, thousands of rocks together, carried water from centuries passed and would do so long into the unfolding future.
The aqueduct was a monument to the creativity of our ancestors, of they who wanted a river to flow in midair over a valley and made it happen. They dreamed it and built it and there is stands today, so many hundreds of years later, perfect pillars of rain-engraved stone.
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