I queued up for the train as always, healing like a concession of defeat. The colder it gets, physician the larger and more desperate this mob becomes. This morning I was part of a faceless torrent of blighted souls, like a yuppie death march toward Dunkin Donuts, hunched over and lurching forward. I dropped a glove and thought I might be trampled if I bent to retrieve it.
While release from the train may be ecstasy, we are swallowed instantly by the cavern.
This is what I feel like:
OOH, congratulations to Licketysplit for achieving, uhhh, something.