42°

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This place is empty. Like this index card it is just me and my thoughts. It's like my brain is in a vat. I crave stimulation, but all I am left with is my memory. This would be a good place to end my journey, but the string keeps going. It would have been too anticlimactic anyway.

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Day 52

But first, Marcus missed the snow, so we headed for Antarctica once again, and I didn't want to hurt his feelings by telling him I'd already been. This part of Antarctica was as cold and wet as the first, though we didn't go ice-fishing. Marcus gazed his fill of snow, then we left.

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