Immortal ******

When I closed the manuscript, my fingertips were still stained with traces of revisions. The third draft has its edges curled up, and the deleted words are stacked one over the other - there is no skill, it is all supported by love. It's not perfect, the motivations of the supporting characters are a little shallow, and the dialogue is occasionally stilted, but every stroke is soaked in my impulse to write. I didn't draw anything, just because I liked it a little bit, I couldn't help but put my thoughts into words. Now it's leaving, taking my clumsy love with it, enough is enough.