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The back of the card says, telegraphically, FOR-THE-FINEST-SEAFOOD-OF-THE-NATION. It’s a rather rambling structure; built in segments, perhaps. The mast with SEAFOOD spelled out is a classic, as is the Coral Room sign.
You can smell the fish wafting from the ventilators; you can easily imagine the thick sound of the car doors slammed shut, the honk of the ships in the Sound, the breaking glass of WTO protesters.
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