He can’t even tell them who I am? Am I not his girlfriend anymore? I could feel the tears threaten to fall and the lump in my throat swelled, making...it hard to speak. I swallowed the lump and took a deep breath. “I’m just his classmate,” I managed to say while still looking at him. “The group has been trying to contact you for a while now, but there was no reply, so I volunteered to seek you out since I was coming to visit some family. The group wanted to know if you’re going to come back any. A tale untold is like jewelry unsold, precious and shining gloriously,only for its owner. With my writing contract not extended after my thirdtale, combined with an inability to find new takers for it, I began towonder if my story was like a ring on a charlatan's finger, large andgaudy, implying an undeserved worth to its owner.Most depressing were these thoughts. Bad enough being unable to sell thegoods from your inventory, but when those unwanted goods are your ownstories, it is embarrassing.. More

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