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The apartment building to your right has three stories of windows. Most are shattered, many are boarded, all appear dark within. The building itself is made of worn red brick, much of it cracked, all of it stained by time. The back door looks as though it was once painted orange, though now it is nearly black. On it is a pull handle, sharing a plate with dead-bolt. It appears to be locked. Both are quite rusted. You are hungry. You are cold. You are in pain. You want a cigarette.