Head, neck and all her heart hunched over the desk pouring out onto the pages beneath the steady flowing pen. With each line the words seem to pour out of her with greater speed.
To what end? She doesn't know nor would she desire it.
It is in this mystery her smirk lurks.
How far will it take her?
Why should she care.
The unease of knowing the track could end drives her on. . . the abyss calls
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