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Meeting the Creator

“Well,” Gweneth said, taking a blue scarf from around her neck and putting up her hair, “our most recent leader is…” She trailed off, turning her head to look at what she thought was movement.

“William?” Melissa pressed. I’d meant for him to be insane, if not evil. “He’s what?”

“He’s mad, miss. Absolutely mad. And the performers are so gullible!” She assumed the movement and the quiet sound of Matthew’s ocarina were figments of her imagination.

“Are they?” But they were to turn against him, she thought. Under Gweneth’s instruction, she reminded herself. Without my main character, my story is nothing.

“Yes, they are. They won’t listen to me unless I do something extravagant, and I’m nowhere near as good at extravagance as I look.”

“Indeed… Why are you here?” the author questioned, wishing her short, light brown hair would turn long, red and silky like her creation’s.

“If you could meet your creator, wouldn’t you?”

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