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31. Going Down Memory Lane

Sineas’ legs were now aching. He had walked for at least two-and-a-half hours now. His legs threatened to buckle under his weight. His tiring journey had finally brought him to his destination. It still looked like the American Whitehouse to him. Even despite having grown taller, the building still looked gigantic. The white, thick pillars, the plush green lawn just inside the ten-foot barbed wire fence, the windows, everything still looked identical. He wondered the same about his mother. The only thing he thought may had been changed was the Breechwood Asylum sign. He did not remember it having a “welcome to”.

He headed straight for the gate. There was a small security booth just to his left. ‘Good morning,’ he greeted the seventy to eighty year old guard. The guard startled to his feet spilling his coffee all over his khaki shorts.

‘Darn it, Man!’ he yelped before he snatched a newspaper to wipe off the liquid. ‘What you
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