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Summary
"Please. Please. I’m a Union soldier. I…I got separated, and I’m starving." His eyes burned. "Please let me in."
Another long silence followed, until finally a voice spoke. "I’ve got a gun."
"That’s all right," he said.
"I’m pointing it at you."
He was so used to this he barely felt it. "That’s all right, too."
Finally the door opened and a thin, orange light was painted straight down the murky grey of the rain.
