So back in 2002, a young writer, who had been editing a fantasy novel for the past six months, had a pair of lines pop into his head. And when he wrote them down, more lines wrote themselves. And before he knew it, he had a short story. And that short story grew into something… [...]
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Archive for November 20th, 2009
Brent stood over me, a gun pointed at his head.
He always was a melodramatic little shit.