Novelas y relatos de Writer Collaboration

Lorenzo looked at what he had written. He crossed it out. He wrote it again. She read it. "Yes," she said. "That." They worked for three hours. She wrote some sections. He wrote others. Some they wrote together ... one person starting a sentence and the other finishing it in the specific unconscious way of people who had been thinking alongside each other long enough that the seams were no longer visible. Fausto had asked for four hundred words. They wrote six hundred. She looked at the final draft. At her father's name in the first paragraph.

The Eraser paused. "Astute," it acknowledged. "Yes. I exist because the Author exists. Where there is writing, there must be erasing. Where there is creation, there must be deletion. The Author accepted collaboration. I cannot allow that. So I will erase the conditions that made collaboration possible. Return reality to singular vision. Restore proper hierarchy." "The Author agreed to let go," I protested. "You cannot override that decision."