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Weekly Contest #272
Warm rays from the sun fell as if God himself watched, listening intently on his lonely fiddler. The fiddler played a melancholy tune in the center of the grand room. There basking in the heavens light, which fell through the large arched windows. Draped around every window are deep rich red curtains. Red as the blood that coursed through the fiddlers veins. Red as fire, red as the passion which swelled inside him. The boy’s lengthy fingers gripped the bow, dragging it back and forth. He continued to play the sorrowful tune. A tune which onl...
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