The Writer

The writer sat at a dimly lit table, upon a spotlit floor in the middle of space, writing forever all that happened.

As the writer dipped the quill into the jar of ink, another figure walked out into the light. The writer did not look up, not even when the wanderer asked the one question:

"What is written in the book of life?"

The writer could not refuse answering the wanderer, who had found his place of sanctuary, and so began to read. As the words flowed he wrote them back into the book, and through this method he began:

"The writer sat at a dimly lit table, upon a spotlit floor in the middle of space, writing forever all that happened.

As the writer dipped the quill into the jar of ink, another figure walked out into the light..."