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Through wooden double doors, like walking through a time machine but destination not set back to a date of great significance not time nor place that might spark important controversial and social discussions at the tip of a thrusting vocalized spit sward not science nor religion defied not the place great historians rigorously and brutally debate over inside text books and universities no these wooden doors cracked and sullen, fat from their lonely years of humidity and quiet as the tree they came from popped the cork of a tragic day |