Walking down the main street, feels like months since my last hint of civilization. I'm tired and its getting late. I am not alone here, the hairs on the back of my neck make me sure of it. If the citizens are still here, they wouldn't be what I would call, living. I need to find shelter and supplies soon before sunset if I'm going to make it till morning. Listen to myself, it doesn't matter, I’m dead anyway.
Start construction fo the baseball the field
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