The front of the barn has small supply closets on either side of the main door. You head over to the left wall one and with a hard jerk you unlatch the aged metal lock and slide open the wobbly wooden door. You are greeted by the smell of old wood chips, oil, and grass seed as you venture into the crammed supply closet. You shove your way to the back as you shift though boxes of junk in the dust scattered light.
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