CHOICES, CHOICES

You purse your lips, determined, and push the door open, just wide enough so that you can slip through.

You’re at the end of a long hallway. There are small, old-fashioned lamps hanging from the curved ceiling, glowing dimly. The floor is made of concrete, and the brick walls are painted a dark colour; brown, perhaps, but it is hard to tell in this light.

Your footsteps echo loudly as you walk down the hallway. When you reach the end, you’re standing at the edge of another hallway, which curves out of sight on either end.

Which way do you go?

* Left.
* Right.

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