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My name is Antônio Pereira, but everyone knows me as Arthur Black. I am a writer. In the past, I was rich, influential, and coveted because of my children's stories. But I lost almost everything. You know how it is ... what comes easy, goes easy ...
Since I'm opening my heart, I need to confess that I lied about my most famous book, the book that became a great success in cinema. I always thought they would never talk about it, but I was wrong.
I was approached by the man who knows my secret, and he made me a proposal that I could not refuse. I promised that I would write a new children's story, and I will follow all his rules. So, I'm beginning to realize that there is something much strange about this place that he brought me and then left me alone. My nights are plagued by situations that are beyond my comprehension. Hallucinations? Reality? I don't know.
There are doors in this world that open in unknown places. Maybe they are responsible for the appearance of the silhouettes, the voices, and the intense white light erupted from the darkness of the countryside. Each day I stay here, my perception becomes more nebulous.
The only certainty that I have is the book that I write every day becomes completely different right after I go to sleep.
Since I'm opening my heart, I need to confess that I lied about my most famous book, the book that became a great success in cinema. I always thought they would never talk about it, but I was wrong.
I was approached by the man who knows my secret, and he made me a proposal that I could not refuse. I promised that I would write a new children's story, and I will follow all his rules. So, I'm beginning to realize that there is something much strange about this place that he brought me and then left me alone. My nights are plagued by situations that are beyond my comprehension. Hallucinations? Reality? I don't know.
There are doors in this world that open in unknown places. Maybe they are responsible for the appearance of the silhouettes, the voices, and the intense white light erupted from the darkness of the countryside. Each day I stay here, my perception becomes more nebulous.
The only certainty that I have is the book that I write every day becomes completely different right after I go to sleep.
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