I want to thank the Lindley's (and I know I am getting their name wrong) for the parcel, which I picked up at the mission today. I had faith in the postal service, and believe that, since stealing mail is a federal offence, it's enough of a deterent for the average thief, enough to thiink that I would indeed get the parcel.
The sentiment of the denizens of St. Francis is that nothing good could come into such a place, and the parcel went unstolen, based upon this.
It was a bleak picture at the Visitor's Center, where I attempted to play, and I didn't see the chance for much profit, so, I went to get the parcel, thinking "Gee, I hope they put 20 bucks in it, like they did last time," quite frankly. They did.
The fact that it is freezing cold tonight makes it a very timely 20 bucks, which was the first thing visible, upon my slicing the pack open. My fingers are too numb to do the Beatles justice.
It was a bleak picture at the Visitor's Center, where I attempted to play, and I didn't see the chance for much profit, so, I went to get the parcel, thinking "Gee, I hope they put 20 bucks in it, like they did last time," quite frankly. They did.
The fact that it is freezing cold tonight makes it a very timely 20 bucks, which was the first thing visible, upon my slicing the pack open. My fingers are too numb to do the Beatles justice.
Above is a picture of where the Lindley's live. The Artfull Dodger, Jenny Wren, Uriah Heep, Oliver Twist, and David Copperfield have all milled about these streets, which amazes me.
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