Coming over the crest of the thickly wooded hill, you see the decrepit shack that has always been your home. Your long walks through the Appalachian hills usually help clear your mind. You had hoped that the throbbing, insistent pain behind your eyes would go away with this one. You still don't want to admit it, but this pain is exactly how it felt the last two times. You better get your camera. After all, this is why you bought it.
Ninth place (out of 26) in the Second Annual Interactive Fiction Competition.
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