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"Waiting for Anna" by extreme_fj0rd
I am the lie-weaver, the illusionist, the trickster, but most of all I am the storyteller--despite the fact that there is no longer any story. It has been swept away by the sands of time, crumbling slowly into erosion until there is nothing left of it but mere legend, myths that weave their tangled threads around young minds at bedtime. There is no reason any more for me to tell the truth...

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