Shamad woozily sat in the chair. He held the book and stared at the cover. He opened it and read the inside cover. He flipped through the pages, stopping and staring the illustrations of beautiful paintings. He felt the urge to vomit. He carefully put down the book and, green faced, ran towards the door. He collided with several tables on the way out. He barely made it.
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Arrival at the Bismark Part II (open) |
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