So far so good. I have evaded the worst of the pondlife on my journey. Ducking the gaze of the feral eyed and filthy fingered. But now, what is this? A dark tunnel looms before me, etched with the scrawlings on the insane denizens of this land. A trap perhaps? No matter, I faced worse in Korea in '52. Onwards then, the devil takes care of his own.
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