Once inside the room, the intruder paused again to take a look at the private world of the writer.
It was cast in a warm glow from the ever-burning desk lamp. Neat and orderly, everything was in its place so as to be found with barely a distracted thought given to needing it, let alone finding it. The décor was simplistic at best but the writer had made it so intentionally; a desk and chair, lamps, scores of books, a computer on the desk, few pictures on the walls. It was a place for working, not a place for distractions.
It was cast in a warm glow from the ever-burning desk lamp. Neat and orderly, everything was in its place so as to be found with barely a distracted thought given to needing it, let alone finding it. The décor was simplistic at best but the writer had made it so intentionally; a desk and chair, lamps, scores of books, a computer on the desk, few pictures on the walls. It was a place for working, not a place for distractions.
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