The
year is 1918, and
with winter on the way the sound of a typewriter, passed down over centuries, clicks away in
a cliché Bronx apartment. With every word she is creating, time is of the
essence for the
perfect fictitious character of the Nuyugonan tribe that journeys south. Liam was tall
with brown eyes, a classy black suit, and a side grin… pushing south may
be their only option. Despite the horror stories a knock on the door makes her get up.
“You typed?” said Liam. They learn hard truths about themselves, and what it means to
be alive.
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