26th April 1980

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London, the 26th April, 1980

Dear diary,

I know we haven't been together much often as we once did and I'm utterly sorry about that. How can I forget about my only friend in the entire world? How dare I?

Fret not, for you've done nothing wrong. It's totally my fault. To make up for lost time, I'll talk my heart out to you. Before I begin, let me give you a writer's warning. If my flow of words by any chance abruptly stops, please call the police. 

Last wednesday I came back home, only to see a cardboard box sitting right outside my door. At first, I thought it was something I'd ordered. However, upon further thinking, I realized my pockets have been lighter than ever. Whatever it was, it couldn't have been mine. The delivery guy must have made some sort of mistake. It drives me crazy how incompetent they are!

Then it started moving on its own. I swear I'd never been so scared in all my life. Could it have gotten on my porch by itself? Safe to say, my mind was overwhelmed with questions.

Thinking back now, I hate myself for having opened that (un)welcomed gift. 

....


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