Paragraph: (Fiction-stories-masc-The_Black_Willow-5.txt)
Sent 1: Nathan read the package of words in silence, his only motions the steady progress of his eyes and occasional replacement of pages.
Sent 2: Allan sat nervously across from him in a chair Nathan had probably upholstered himself, a patchwork design of fabric containing easily more stuffing than any other furniture item of the period.
Sent 3: At long last, Nathan reached the end and set down his reading on the table between them.
Sent 4: Allan leaned forward unconsciously.
Sent 5: "It's the best story you've ever written."
Sent 6: Allan exhaled and leaned back into the chair, his face relaxing in imitation of his thoughts.
Sent 7: "So," he asked, "you don't think it's a waste of ink and paper, a futile expedition into morbidity or literary debauchery?"
Sent 8: "Heavens, no," said Nathan, aghast.
Sent 9: "This is one of the strongest works I've read in ages.
Sent 10: It speaks to the deepest storyteller's instinct within us all, yet is entirely original.
Sent 11: My dear friend, you have done it.
Sent 12: Oh, they may rail against you at first; they may decry you as a heathen or a literary savage; but while those in power say such things, others will read your tales and see their true worth.
Sent 13: Believe me when I say that you will be read a century from now."
Sent 14: Allan, though dubious as to that possibility, felt some temptation from the compliment; mainly, it granted him the encouragement he still needed.
Sent 15: Nathan promised to show the story to a printer he knew and Allan left it with him, then walked home under the spreading maples with a smile lingering on his face.
Sent 16: He felt now that perhaps Nathan was right; although the man was somewhat peculiar, he had both an unimpeachable honesty and a certain propensity for insight.
Sent 17: Certainly, it was undeniable that the stories had an originality to them.
Sent 18: His mind's strangest fruit had ripened at last, and he found the taste less bitter than expected.
Sent 19: These thoughts and others like them filled his head as he walked the long road home.
Sent 20: It was evening, and the sky burned orange in the west when he neared home at last.