The door stared at him expectantly. The keyhole was the equivalent of a blank page to a writer, prying into his brain. The key was in his hand, golden and shining, but he couldn’t raise that hand and put the key to the keyhole.
The door stared at him expectantly. The keyhole was the equivalent of a blank page to a writer, prying into his brain. The key was in his hand, golden and shining, but he couldn’t raise that hand and put the key to the keyhole.
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