review
He raced away at his typewriter, forced by an unknown presence to construct a dark realm to consume all that he knew. The editor, a fair-skinned elderly woman dressed as a widow, pierced his very being with her cold fingers at his shoulder. The writer...
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3
review
S is for the self-perpetuating skies that stretch the surface of sight. K is for Khajit – the weirdest race I’ve ever had the pleasure to control in a game. Y is for yawns endured in the endless nights of saying to myself “just one more quest”. R...
5 COMMENTS
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