Dungeon living had morphed me into an entirely different Harlow Vale. Now, I was only three percent human and ninety-seven percent boredom.
But there was a plus side. My major in college should've been dungeon pebble throwing. I'd scored fifty out of fifty just today, and if I weren't so gross and dirty, I'd pat myself on the back.
I chucked another pebble into the bucket in the far corner. Score. There was no stopping my winning streak. If it weren't for the fact that I was miserable and bored and had been caged down here for three weeks, I'd be jealous of myself.
Look, Harlow, we can't all be as talented and lucky as you, okay?
And now I've started talking to myself in the third person. Did I mention how bored I was locked up in here?
If I had to describe a dungeon beneath a ma
