Arthur paced. If the internet cut out now, was it a sign? Was the universe telling him the prose was purple? He thought about the character in Chapter 7, the one who lived in a lighthouse and only spoke in riddles. Would the transition from the gritty urban realism of Chapter 6 be too jarring once they were physically joined in the same document? Ding.

Arthur stared at the progress bar, his finger hovering over the mouse. This was it. The culmination of three years, four breakups, and several gallons of black coffee.

The server whirred. A small notification appeared: Your files are being processed.

There it was, sitting in his Downloads folder: merged_document_1.pdf . He renamed it The_Great_American_Attempt.pdf .

His "Draft Story" was currently scattered across twelve different files: