Dear reader, won’t you dwell with me within these lines upon
the page. Follow me down cobbled lanes
and up the street where fevers rage.
Tiny thieves with clever hands play their games of chance and
tricks. Eyes made shrewd beyond their
years, little liars, candlewicks. Join
their ranks or risk the outcome. Learn their ways or spill the blood. There is no way to leave this burrough. Unless the bleeders give you up. Hasty choices led you to it. Live this life of fine regret. The die is cast the fate has twisted. Paid in
full this pauper’s debt.
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