She paused in an open doorway. The warm glow coming from a small desk lamp only dimly lit her features as she stood at the door to the writer’s sanctum. With green eyes and shoulder-length brown hair, she could have been any woman in the world.
Her hesitation was short-lived, however, and she soon overcame her fear of being seen. Or maybe it was the fear of being recognized for what she truly was and her image being shattered. Whichever it was, it was disregarded quickly enough and the seemingly everyday woman stepped into the private world of the writer.
Her hesitation was short-lived, however, and she soon overcame her fear of being seen. Or maybe it was the fear of being recognized for what she truly was and her image being shattered. Whichever it was, it was disregarded quickly enough and the seemingly everyday woman stepped into the private world of the writer.
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