Dear diary

I started keeping a diary at an early age. Back then, I used differently scented and variously colored pens for my scribbles. Ink that smelled of strawberry and orange, bubblegum and cookies would float up each time I opened the diary. My eleven year old self alive and well within its pages. All my inner …

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CHAPTER I – REMINISCING

I sat down over two hours ago, but so far…nothing. Scribble pad still virgin, computer screen still blank. “Shout if you need anything.” I had said to the workmen downstairs before climbing to my perch on the third floor. It is all very casual here. Shouts and swearing, laughter and arguments and lots and lots …

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