January 5, 2023. Diary entry #19
My husband is so silly. For someone being an annoying journalist, who always wants everyone to read the articles he puts out, he doesn't let me read anything anymore. I see him at his desk every day, typing away at his keyboard like he's telling the best story ever, like he has so much to say.
Everytime I ask him what he's working on, he just mumbles something about someone and the tragedies that happen in the city, but nothing more than that. It's strange, but I guess I try not to question it. Afterall, I guess I don't come home every day to tell him about every walk that I go on with the dogs. Maybe once he's done he'll let me read it. I'm curious to see what it's about.
YOU ARE READING
Mister Perfect
Mystery / ThrillerWhen I got home, I had this sense of urgency overtaking me. I needed to read those diary entries and I needed to read them fast. The faster I read them, the closer I could get to Eleanor and God, did I want to be close to her. I wanted to get inside...
