A Plea
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A Plea by Bernie Cake
The good folk of the Vale allowed the miners of Deepstone to work our tin mines. Yet even those experienced men and women were too scared once the knocking started, and they left.
Now it is just the Knockers and me. I stay here trying to mine the ore as my family needs the Brass.
I hear them even now, making their infernal sounds. There is a creeping dread that I am being watched, and sometimes feel a presence behind me and dare not turn around.
As I write, the knocking grows louder, and the presence looms large behind me.
I know that if I turn around, I might be staring straight at a pair of big Knockers, or worse.
If you find these notes, please tell my wife, PATTY.