Don’t use the water, they say. As long as there are no wee beasties in it. Where in the fuck am I. Every last building on this godforsaken Fort is a shade of nauseating yellow, with a pungent titian roof to match. This place is like Hogwarts! Are you fucking kidding me? Harry was probably allergic to penicillin, which I’m going to assume is the most tame sort of mold that’s living in these quarters. Prison would be classier. Open bays have more privacy. A goddamn asylum is about the level of exactitude; desolate doesn’t even smatter the edge. Actual tumbleweeds, fake cows, Navajo white, ACU printed do-rags, buffalo jewelry. An airport so small that you can hear the boarding call from the baggage claim.

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