7

7
"Cut," the old man says.
"Either he is thinking to himself, or he thinks very little of my situation," he hears you thinking out loud.
"You've told me the way in, now show me the way out," he responds, at last.
"What? Whatever." You stop talking to contemplate this show and tell trick he's playing. You sing to him, simply passing the time. "Blue borders, of red and gold, show you outside, what's been told," the song fits the situation like an arch fits a rainbow.
You feel lucky, and walk with the man towards Lexington.
[to be continued in chapter 9]