You awaken in a field of rubble. The police are here...

You rub your sore head as you stand up.

"We know what happened on the beach last night," the two policemen say simultaneously in a high-pitched voice.

"We KNOW what happened there," they add, more loudly and more screechingly.

"WE KNOW those two policemen," they add even more deafeningly.

"WE ARE THOSE two policemen." By now it's quite painful to listen to them.

They point towards the top of a nearby hill. Just above it you notice that a big statue of Aphrodite is being carried in chains under a helicopter.

The tall man behind the receptionist's desk huffs and buffs to get the brass just right around the edges of his desk. He points up towards the top of the hill as well.

The man who showed you to your chair last night takes a photo of you with an old-fashioned black and white camera and gives you the negative. It is blank. You pocket it. He, too, points to the top of the hill. The statue is disappearing into the distance.

You nod, your face a mask of seriousness, knowing what you must do. You set out to reach the top of the hill.

The End

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