And every single word that survived survived a fucking war. I don't know what I feel right now. I wrote Durban and he said he didn't know what to say, only that he felt light and that if he felt light, that I should allow myself the same. Today, I did the last 4,000 words. I don't know what I feel right now, only that I'm spinning. The last thing he asked me was if he could tell people what it was going to be called...as if he had to get permission from me - something he claimed I earlier wouldn't allow. I don't remember this, but I suppose it is something I would say. I told him to go tell the world...
We Are The Dusk.
