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An excerpt from my journal.
Day 53: been raining for six days. Bobbys broken law looks to have gangrene. Very little food, meager sustenance provided by the inner bark of the beachwoods.
Day 54: too weak to write much today.
Day 57: feeling better today, but we were forced to eat Bobby. Disposed of his leg in the valley.
Day 59: suffering horrible diarrhea. All hope is lost. Give my chiefs tickets to Phobia.
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