Milo was resting in the backyard of the clinic as he waited for the band to arrive. But it wasn’t until early in the morning that he heard the stronghold’s portcullis being raised slowly.
It sucked that he couldn’t harvest the vegetables that had just been planted in the yard, those scallions, garlic seedlings, bok choy, and so on.
What had to come would eventually come. Milo opened his eyes and walked towards the consultation room at the front. He sat upright with decorum in the seat and waited.
Knock, knock, knock...
Three raps sounded on the door.
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