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Weekly Contest #57
Shards of light filtered into Henry’s eyes splitting his brain like a chainsaw through glass. Attempting to sit up brought the pain clear through his skull and he lay back down gingerly. As the chainsaw calmed a bit, he once again tried opening his eyes except this time with added care. He was lying on his back, his head awkwardly angled at the base of a very big oak tree. Painstakingly, he examined himself before rising again. His normally impeccable hair was now matted and felt slightly damp interwoven with a few twigs and leaves. He wince...
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