In front of me is a wall to wall of books. Curious, I reach for an interesting looking red-and-black spine and pull it out. It is a sheaf of bound yellowed parchment. Expecting a tale of magic and fantasy, I open it at a random page. I drop the book in shock. On the open page is a movie playing, balck-and-white characters obviously going through the motions described in the book. It is not my book. Gingerly picking it up, I smooth it closed, replace it and reach for another one.
Frustration and panic mounts, of all the one I have seen so far, none of them are the one story I want, the one book that has my words – not another's vision.
Where is it?
Where is it?
- 17,819 dropped by.
I just said…
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