[Salutation],

I am Pseudonym, and I have a story for you.

In fact, I have so many of them, I broke them into pieces and then made them into novels with covers that change too many times and stories with too many threads.

But they are words all the same, made with letters threaded together with shaking fingers and then stuck on bits of paper, smearing glue all over in the process.

They are not simply words shattered apart by the frustrated blow of an author with severe writers block but also fragments of that same glass brought and melted together to form something new, something different, something so unique, no same person could create the same thing.

The words you may have read or you may read will be insane, standing on the edge of the cliff, ready to take the jump, ready to choke themselves with a wire or overdose on pills.

Or maybe they would be the sunshine that slowly lulled you to lazy slumber or that hot shower after a hard day.

But give those twenty four letters strung together the tiniest chance and who knows, they may be the wind that will finally lift your wings.

My name is Pseudonym and I can take you to an adventure, but the only question is, are you willing to come?