Week of 11/25/2007 - 02:00 to 12/02/2007 - 01:59

Robiana Jones and The Temple of Bond (University)

The air was musty and it was dark. Pitch dark. I could feel that the corridor was narrow but I was reluctant to touch the walls because of the roaches. Poisonous spiders would be the bigger concern but they are less disgusting.

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I lit the torch, more scared of what I would see rather than the unknown.

The corridor had made a sharp turn. More crude walls, dancing shadows as I waved the torch. Half-empty cardboard boxes left and right on the floor, the cardboard severely damaged by the humidity. Very

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What Goes Up, Must Come Down

The constant humming of the elevator told me that it was still trying to find its way down to level 1 where I was waiting.

It was early in the morning (almost 10) and I was wondering what I would actually do that day at Bond University. No students would visit me, because there were no students. And no project meeting would await me, because there were no projects. I had not even lecture that day. I decided that I probably will listen to the murmur of the air conditioning for some time before heading home again.

Suddenly I wondered whether the dead cockroach on level 5 \

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