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| 01 Nov 2016 06:36 PM |
| Waking up from when I was relaxed looking at the tampered skies, which are now an imperfect gray from the clouds and irradiated contamination, surprisingly stars are still visible. I gather my thoughts and realize my body is aching from lack of motion, erecting myself up into a sitting position I rub my hands and arms to massage away the sore. "Where did we go wrong" I mumble peering around the bank of the river. My lacking agility causes me to stumble onto my knees as I attempt arising from the ground, after a few trials, I finally stand ready to brace the night-time. I've fought the creatures of night before, though, I never imagined I would of had to when I was studying back in that dorm. I wield the trench shovel my great grandfather handed down to his son and my dad gave to me, during exam week too. Imagining it to be lucky is probably what gives me confidence. I begin my night by reaching into my bag and taking out the sharpening stone, afterwords I accoutre the bag and embrace the dusk, while devoting my attention to keep more than my heirloom trenchant. |
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