Friday, October 30, 2009

The Weaver

by Robert Gryfft

Reluctantly, I let her into my study.

"This is the big secret you've been keeping? There's nothing here but books and magazines."

I nodded. "I need my own space. I told you that."

Luckily, she didn't search the pile. My secret is a single leaf of paper.

All it says is who I really am.


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And the end is so mieterious...
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Sebatinsky said...

I don't get it.