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The Quill
I believed myself lost from fiction forever.
I believed I would lay down my Quill forever.
I believed myself lost from its joy, ecstasy, pain, love.
I believed not.
I sought not.
And I found.
And I believed.
I believed I could find joy in fiction.
I believed I could find ecstasy in fiction.
I believed I could find pain in fiction.
I believed I could find Love in fiction.
So I picked up my Quill again.
I dipped it in the ink and let the words flow.
Like poison.
Like blood.
Like Love. |
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