Post by Ian Jennings on Aug 5, 2008 21:43:36 GMT -5
Day Two Thousand One Hundred and Ninty One,
Today begins a new year in hiding, my seventh year to be exact. I can't say that I . . .
Ian sat his pen down on the small wooden table, he'd never been good at writing journals. In his case it would be more approperiate to call it a log. He never wrote anything too personal, he'd learned his lesson after someone had stolen his 'year one' edition and made sure it got passed around to everyone in the hideout. He had been uterly mortified. The taunting stopped from most after a few weeks, but there were still those who still pestered him about what he had written.
In disgust he hurridly closed the notebook the amount of force in his effort made the table wobble. Stange how a memory so distant can make someone suddenly enraged by just thinking about it.
(Eww I suck today! Horridly. I'll come back to this later to add and edit. For now forgive me.)
Today begins a new year in hiding, my seventh year to be exact. I can't say that I . . .
Ian sat his pen down on the small wooden table, he'd never been good at writing journals. In his case it would be more approperiate to call it a log. He never wrote anything too personal, he'd learned his lesson after someone had stolen his 'year one' edition and made sure it got passed around to everyone in the hideout. He had been uterly mortified. The taunting stopped from most after a few weeks, but there were still those who still pestered him about what he had written.
In disgust he hurridly closed the notebook the amount of force in his effort made the table wobble. Stange how a memory so distant can make someone suddenly enraged by just thinking about it.
(Eww I suck today! Horridly. I'll come back to this later to add and edit. For now forgive me.)
