Pit of death by Bruce Laister

What the hell am I doing here? He mumbled to himself. He had found out through observation that if he waited just ten more minutes after midday, he could sit in the shade that the huge wall threw over the ‘pit of death' as he had christened it.

What the hell am I doing here? He mumbled to himself. He had found out through observation that if he waited just ten more minutes after midday, he could sit in the shade that the huge wall threw over the ‘pit of death' as he had christened it.

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