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17 lede

The Appointment by Simon Phillips

Deon slips out the door in the stillness just before dawn and gently shuts the iron gate behind him. He lifts his heavy hood and bundles himself against the cold. Out through the shadows of his strained brow and into the soggy blanket of night his eyes dart up and down the streets. His breath swirls in great plumes around him. He is marching, grim-faced and determined, to the nearest church. Terror grips him.
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