-A cool draft blew through the cracked timber walls of the dormitory. A foreign mix of body odour, rotting wood and mould permeated through the dark room. It was now pitch black outside, and the only light in Dick and Perry's temporary shelter was a dangling yellow light bulb which Dick had already come close to punching several times.
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+A cool draft blew through the cracked timber walls of the dormitory. A foreign mix of body odour, rotting wood and mould permeated through the dark room. It was now pitch black outside, and the only light in Dick and Perry's temporary shelter was a dangling yellow light bulb which Dick had already come close to punching several times. However, the weary Salvation Army worker strolling the corridors knew nothing of the arguments the pair frequently had. Nor did they have any idea of the pride they took in their "score" - they looked like nobodies.
+
+Perry was quite enraged with Dick, but he was adept at keeping his anger hidden from bystanders. "Just think of it, we can't just leave this chance behind! We could be billionaires!" exclaimed Perry. He was excited as usual about his travelling plans, but Dick had had enough. "We'll never find treasure, Perry. Get real. It's not worth it, even if we go back to Mexico," Dick snapped. Perry sighed and picked up his Gibson guitar. Feeling strangely sentimental, he played some of the first songs he learnt to play. He recalled when he was 3, sitting beside his father who played twangy country songs. There was little to thank his father for, Perry reflected, but he would never forget the time he spent alone with his father listening to his calm strumming.
+
+As Perry quietly played through his hymns, he became aware of the shifting bodies in the bunk beds around him; he was not used to sleeping in a room with so many strangers. He wasn't uncomfortable sleeping near other people - he trusted Dick to fight off any conflicts they might encounter - but he felt vulnerable. Singing and playing was always an authentic output of his soul, and when he was in this kind of mood, he was even slightly uncomfortable sharing his mind with Dick.
+
+Perry heard a grunt from an upper bunk bed, followed by a rough voice muttering "we're trying to sleep". Perry didn't bother to argue; he wasn't in the mood. He played more quietly and eventually sung a cappella, revealing the scratchiness of his voice previously masked by the smooth guitar. After he had finished playing, a voice from the same bunk bed summoned him. "Hey, I know that song!" whispered the voice. It was hoarse but Perry could still decipher a soft and sensitive element in its tone. Why would they care?, thought Perry.
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