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Do You Copy?
Hershull's insistent, yet fruitless clamoring against the door has set to tumble its cottony, white halo of seeds. While Hershull is yanking on the door like a man who's lost his wits, just above him where a bit of the wall has crumbled away, a few stray weeds have grown through the cracks. Do you hear that? The waves. I don't...what's happening? An impossible breeze, cool and refreshing, smelling of sea salt and sandy shores sweeps through the empty hall. But how did you know about them faces? Just kids, Hersh, pranks. Get me those cutters and get me some copper