
| You awake as if from a deep anaesthesia. You have a splitting headache -- you're dizzy, nauseous, your legs are aching, your back is aching and you're freezing cold. It's as if your whole body is revolting against you for refusing to consume anything in the past few days except alcahol. You have been unconsious here in the rain -- it could have been for several hours, or several days. Presently you're stretched out on a wooden bench at a railway station. The sign looming above you says "Heidelberg" -- this must be Heidelberg station, and once again you have no idea how you got here. | 
|  This is your lowest ebb. You've never felt as miserable as this before, and you probably never will. If you had any strength or motivation now you'd make some move to get out of the rain and dry off, but there doesn't seem to be any point. The rain has totally saturated you and you can't get any wetter. Let's face it, you are dying. You don't have long to go. This is the end of the road for you. You're dying alone and no one will care. | 
|   | You look at your wrist and see that your watch is gone. You don't know what time it is -- the cloudy sky yields no clue. It could be any time of day. You look in your pocket and see that you have eighty-five cents -- it's not enough to buy you a ticket back to the city, but it is enough to buy you a Zone 2 ticket which will only take you around this northern area of Melbourne. | 
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What's it going to be?