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Weekly Contest #357
She shuffled backward across the dry, packed dirt on her bare feet, trailing her hand along the rock, feeling her way. Her back hit the wall. The stone's intense cold penetrated her thin cotton top. Despite that, she leaned against it, pressing back, sliding, sagging, scraping every vertebra as she slowly sank down. Her flesh was raw. Her pride was shattered. She was completely and utterly defeated. Knowing the ceiling soared above her, over twelve feet high, only made matters worse. Through the pitch-black, she squinted at her hands. She c...
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