Hard Luck Hank: Basketful of Crap

Cover Hard Luck Hank: Basketful of Crap
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Genres: Fiction
All I knew was that it wasn’t my apartment.
I was hungry again.
“Hello?” I asked.
No one responded.
I saw a gallon of water on a small table next to my bed but I couldn’t reach it. I tilted and twisted, but that made my legs hurt so I lay back down.
I couldn’t find my tele. That was more disconcerting than anything. Many people slept with their teles, that’s how integral they were to our being.
Hadn’t I met Garm? This certainly wasn’t her apartment. She lived in luxury. Other than a chair and t
...he table and the bed, there was nothing in the room. Not even a carpet. It could be a flophouse in Deadsouth for all I knew except the room was too small.
But at least I was alive, which was more than I could say about a lot of people at that battle I’m sure. I was anxious to know who had escaped. How it all happened.
I felt very vulnerable lying in an unknown bed, no weapons, no tele, immobile.
I must have dozed off, because I came to and the medical technician Devus Sorsha was examining my legs.
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