Dear Diary

Revelations in 100 words

Photo by Michael Dziedzic on Unsplash

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She shivered. The musky dampness of the boathouse felt as forbidden as ever. Maybe more so since their mother was no longer alive to countermand her inviolable instruction. ‘Never EVER disturb me in my studio’. They never had. Her fingers trembled as she unlocked the Edwardian desk, catching the tumbling sheaf of vellum papers.

It was embossed ‘1989’ the year father left. The crimson ribbon was frayed where it marked the page that fell open. Her mother’s elegant cursive script blurred through unexpected tears. “Dear Diary, it is not nearly as hard to kill a man as you might imagine”.

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I have been playing with the idea of a discovered diary and the stories it might tell. This came to mind and the word count limit of 100 suits a modest ‘reveal’.