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The third tent was bigger then the last three. It was a bright, eye-
searing purple. Grass grew wild around the hedges. There were stains on
the outside, some recognizable, some not. The tent had been there for a
while for a rock-lined gravey pathway led up to the main entrance. A sign, done in painstaking detail, advertised booze, poker and something. The last word had been torn away with a hammer blow. The hammer was still embedded in the sign. Fred listened carefully. From somewhere inside the tent a donkey brayed.
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5/9/2005 1:36:35 PM
Extending Enabled
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