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LiteraryArtist

  • The Gate with the Metal Spikes.

    It came to me in my dreams. I saw it, night after night and couldn’t find the meaning to it. The sky was a light pink, as if it were ...

    • Short Story
    5 min read


When we are children we seldom think of the future. This innocence leaves us free to enjoy ourselves as few adults can. The day we fret about the future is the day we leave our childhood behind.
— Patrick Rothfuss, The Name of the Wind