LIT 110

Thursday, November 17, 2011

From fiction to fact. I have been painted red, with what words I could not say. All the things I had never yet spoken were printed on my face, streaks of crimson truth. The king speaks several levels up and within the castle walls I walk a labyrinth. Where is the one I loved and who am I now. I lost me a hundred turns back. When you do no know what to say, say only that which you know. Say nothing.

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