dusty motes of sunlight

Lydia has forgotten everything she once believed in, and her quiet desperation is reaching a fevered pitch. She doesn't like to read Thoreau. Todd does. A third-time Wrimo, I'll use every cheap trick in the book to reach 50,000 words. I make no excuses.

Sunday, October 31, 2004

This is a nanowrimo blog, nothing but the story.

Cheers.

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