(Hinterland City Streets)/Tables

Style	First Paragraph
Remembered Heliconian Cartographical	It happens most often when [...] But the imprints are elsewhere too. The scent of a dish you used to share, which is only prepared on the Surface and cannot possibly be here. A doorknob of a peculiar design you've only ever seen on one person's door.
Celestial	It happens most often when you are in a crowd. Across a square, you see a walk or the back of a head that you know intimately. A voice lifts in laughter, and it is that laugh. The scent of a dish you used to share, a summer picnic taken in the grass.
Auroral	It happens most often when you are in a crowd. [...] it is that laugh. Sometimes it is a trick of the shifting light, the auroral colours repainting a passing citizen so that their coat is just the colour someone else used to wear.
Nocturnal	[...] A voice [...] in laughter, and it is that laugh. You catch the scent of a dish you used to share, which is only prepared on the Surface and cannot possibly be here. In the velvet darkness, you have no sights to distract you, only the perfect recollection.
Bazaarine	This is a city decorated in allusions and riddles. But every riddle has the same answer. Every inscrutable date enciphers the same birthday. Every rebus resolves to the same name.
Mycologene	FATE
Terpsichorean	FATE
Cenotaphic	There is no respite from the memories anywhere: of course there is not. You have shaped the whole city around recollection and grief. Whatever does not remind you of your loss, it reminds you instead of how you felt afterward.