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Have you ever been in a salt mine? The floors are salt, the walls are salt.  Everywhere your eyes linger, the coarse grains filter through the air.  Dry, dry is the air.  Drier still when thou doth realize their fate is but a line in the salt on the floor, nary a toe to smudge or water to dissolve it utterly.  How parched is your tongue now, dear jester?