Once I had a diary

Once upon a time I got a diary for Christmas. It was a beautiful shade of blue - that perfect tint that the sky never quite imitates. The cover was padded, with vines of pink flowers and green leaves. And golden letters declared "My Secret Five Year Diary." The pages were gilt-edged, crisp cream paper, firm and smooth, with narrow lines because I was a big girl now and could write small. And I faithfully reproduced the boring details of my life, in slow and careful scrawl, for all of five days.

There was a lock on this diary too, all filigreed gold. And there was a key, which I kept attached to the strap in case it got lost. I think I already knew nobody would want to steal my secrets. After all, they weren't even interesting enough for me to keep writing them.

So now I have a blog. Ironic really. I wonder what I'll do with it.

Comments

Pat Bertram said…
I always loved diaries, but I never kept them beyond a few days. What was there to say? And now, like you, I have a blog. I used to have plenty to say, but lately, I don't seem to be able to think of much, so I have guests. What a cheat! Getting someone else to do my work for me. Still, blogging is one of the most fun things I do on the internet. I hope you have fun, too.

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