IMAGINE rattling through the countryside on a hot 18th century afternoon, being near shaken to bits as the transport jolts along the rutted road. The rising dust gets into the back of your throat, bringing on the mother of all thirsts. Where can you stop
IMAGINE rattling through the countryside on a hot 18th century afternoon, being near shaken to bits as the transport jolts along the rutted road.
The rising dust gets into the back of your throat, bringing on the mother of all thirsts. Where can you stop for a drink? Perhaps at this place.
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