It's spring break, though it feels like summer vacation. The air is warm and balmy upon my bare arms. The sun is peeking through my open windows.
The children are playing about my feet as I sit and write the stories of my heart.
Life is my canvas and imagination is my paintbrush.
Soon, my first book will be in print. I can hardly believe it. i think of it as I rise in the morning and as I fall fast asleep.
The stories are in my mind strung out like a film. The words are on my lips, and the letters on the tips of my fingers.
I hope that other hearts will tune themselves into my mind to hear the story, and I pray to God, may I never stop writing.
This book is currently empty.
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