I peek into a dark, musty room in Goodreads. A lifeless form, Writer's Group, lays there. As I cautiously step toward the shadowy shape I can hear the scuff of gravel under my feet - this sound, the only sound, echoes eerily. I crouch down next to the Group, heart pounding with uncertainty, and poke it. "Are you alive?"
A lifeless form, Writer's Group, lays there.
As I cautiously step toward the shadowy shape I can hear the scuff of gravel under my feet - this sound, the only sound, echoes eerily. I crouch down next to the Group, heart pounding with uncertainty, and poke it. "Are you alive?"