The Door

The Sewers were nasty and grimy and smelt of rats, puke and other unspeakable things that had been flushed down the city's lavatories over the years. Moss and scum had build up the concrete and brick walls until it was thick enough to cover toast. Ambrose wretched at the thought.

A black door with blue corners.

Ambrose made his way through the water heavy air and, step-by-step came closer to the door Cameron had mentioned. It was old, and the blue corners were ornate with paintings of delicate blue flowers. This had to be it.

Wrapping his scarf around his mouth to manage an odor-free breath, Ambrose then knocked on the door, loud and firm. A moment of silence fell across the echoing hallway, and when Ambrose reached out to try again, the door clicked open,

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