Image Feature: Writers and Devils
I promised the Devil my soul, and in return he promised me that everything I was going to experience hereafter would be turned into tales.
I promised the Devil my soul, and in return he promised me that everything I was going to experience hereafter would be turned into tales.
Time was a blur to me then, and Paris, in all its postcard perfection, was a watery smear of cafes, croissants, and cabs.