“The scrimshaw revealed the truth in his words to Bertie as the sun reflected on a still pond, but when she looked harder, the water wavered. Secrets swam under his surface; some were delicate things, no more than an air bubble breaking, while others were hard and dark and sharp. One of them jabber at her as he said ‘I, too, wanted to be a playwright. But you already have more power over the written word’.
— Oct 03, 2022 07:42AM
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