[TODAY IN THE LIBRARY... Bookman's settled down at a chair, a large sheet of paper on the table in front of him. Beside him are ink wells in various colors, a quill pen set neatly next to each one. The paper already has half a
poem written on it in an
old English script, and the man seems content to slowly work on finishing it, arm still in a cast
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Hi!
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What're you doing here, kid? Workin' on your logs?
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What made ya decide ta write this?
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Been workin' on it for a while, figured it was about time I finished th' thing.
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