Friday, December 23, 2022

First Paragraph

I sit with my wrists cuffed to the table and I think, But that I am forbid / To tell the secrets of my prison-house, / I could a tale unfold whose lightest word / Would harrow up thy soul. The guard stands by the door, watching me, like he's waiting for something to happen.

- From If We Were Villains: A Novel by M. L. Rio 

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