I’m So Sorry

The crone’s magical magic ball cuts out suddenly, falling back onto the
small circular table. A ghost has unfortunatly unplugged it. The crone puts you
out in the street, your question unanswered. A blind old man in an alley offers
you the truth, pulling out a weathered 8Ball from between his rags and raising
it into the light.


It says: It’s already too late

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