Edgar Allan Poe

September 2016
You were on your way to the publisher's office, having written a book, probably even a decent one, but along the way you bumped into a tall young man. A few sheets of paper accidentally fell from your hands, but this unidentified figure picked them up, read them, and was surprised. Those three sheets of paper coincided with the tragic ending, which you'd crafted simply brilliantly. Now he's interested in you (as the author of such a magnificent work).