The Gates of Hell – Me, Anonymous Blog
The opinions expressed in these submissions are from anonymous and unverified sources and do not necessarily represent those of the Portland Mercury.
Turns out it’s in your giant oversized purse. I couldn’t find it for a very long time. Seems to get smaller and smaller and hidden in more and more creative places. I wouldn’t even have been able to open it this time if it wasn’t for the sentry who was there and ready to help. (Disguised in human form of course) Why he knew this knowledge, I have no idea, but I was determined to take another trip so I accepted his help. I was able to sneak in like before and quickly arrive at the familiar building. Really just a dark one room house. No lights or furniture, just a musty smell. Still, a fairly safe place considering the terrain. The whole trip is a bit long to try to recount, but hopefully I can fill you in later, so for now let’s just say I made it back safely and in one piece. (Thank God). Lying in bed, I wasn’t even sure I had come back until I heard the birds chirping (one thing you will never hear in hell are the majestic sounds of birds). I love them so much. No other sound in the world makes me feel so safe.
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