The path up the hill is overgrown from lack of use and somewhat perilous as you ride the post bike to the rusted gates of the mansion, barely hanging on their creaky hinges. This is your last delivery of the day as the sun begins to set. You drag the unwieldy box to the porch of the vast, imposing home, knowing that you can't leave until you have a signature. Ringing the bell, the door creaks open and Doctor Row pokes his head out. Perfect, you arrived just in time. Please do come in...
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