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Bugs

                    Bugs     William tossed his felt hat into the mud upon hearing the cheers of found gold coming from the next claim over.   “Those fucking chinks have found gold again!?” he  cursed .   William’s long leather boots were fixed in sludge ,  and sweat mixed with a light rain were trailing lines through the harsh creases of his face.  Creases too  deep  for a man of around thirty years.   “Ease up Billy, some folk are just luckier than others” replied Matthias.   Matthias had known William since the i r arrival together into Port Phillip. He was a much softer man  than William. Matthias grew up on the east  side of London  in a small  apartment complex  wedged between  two  decrepit  buildings like book ends threatening to crush the books. He’d   been  convicted of  assault after getting beaten up in  an alleyway,  the kind   Jack the Ripper would have salivated over. A lucky  kick to the groin caused his assailant to crumple and, reaching for the  rain-soaked  cobblesto