You look astonished. Is it possible you have never heard of the ominous Lime-Tree, and the Fatal Bough? Why, ’tis a common tale hereabouts, and has been for centuries. Any old crone would tell it you.
After passing through a Green Cypress Tree tree near the top of a grassy knoll, The Monk entered the southeast corner of Rookwood proper. None of the other sims mattered now. He could focused in on the task of finding Phillip’s grave…
Afterwards, The Arab took Baker Bloch on a walk through the local vineyards to try to cheer him up. He knew, because of the new outbreaks, that he’d most likely never make it out of Corsica alive. He was *stuck*.
Eventually he was able to steer the conversation back to Peakology and a positive outcome.
“Come on. Pick up, pick *up*”
“Says here, Baker Bloch, that the Corona-V pirates have come back and are now focused in on Arkansas. New reports are coming in all the way from Mountainsburg to the west, Formosa a little to the north, Kate to the east, and, let’s see, I can’t read what’s south of Arkansas.”
“New Orleans,” spouts Baker Bloch, not in a good mood because of the news. He’d just posted a rant about it on Facef-ck.
The Arab squinted further. “New Something, that’s for sure.” As hard as he tried he couldn’t make out the second word of the printed name in the article, like something trying to fade from existence or hide itself somehow.
“They’re such *dummies* over there,” Baker Bloch further groused.
Amanda finally heard the ring in her purse.
I recall now. This is where I met Messed Up.
I saved her from this place. Now she must save me.