WRONG SHELTER

A while ago, Peter had been walking through the thick snow, his boots sinking deep with each step. His breath came out in puffs and his nose was numb from the cold. He had been walking for what felt like an eternity and he was beginning to think he would never find shelter.

Just as he was about to give up hope, he spotted a cozy looking house nestled amongst the trees. His heart lifted at the sight and he quickened his pace, eager to get inside.

He pushed the creaky front door open and was welcomed by the warm glow of a fire burning in the hearth. The smell of coffee filled the air, and he could hear the gentle clinking of a spoon against a mug.

A man sat hunched over a small table, surrounded by stacks of books and papers. He looked up at Peter, a gentle smile spreading across his face.

"Hello, Peter," the man said. "I've been expecting you."

Peter was taken aback. He had never met this man before, yet he knew his name. How was that possible?

The old man stood up and walked over to
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