This is just an excerpt from a book I self published that has been heavily inspired da fma...
“He” has always existed.
Or at least that’s what the stories say. I’ve never found “him” in all my childhood years. I’m not so sure if I believe in “him” anymore.
In a small house near the edge of a wood, looking out into a grassy plain, lives a humble family; me, my sister, and my brother, both of which are younger than me. We have never been close, not because we don’t get along, but because we are often separated. I do Amore them; I just don’t know them. For years, ever since...
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