Finland 2007 moleskin journal, and the first scrawlings of a story that would eventually be my first published story in 2014.
Found in a box, hardly decipherable in parts, and quite unlike what it became, as far as I can read.
Pages smell strongly like linseed oil.
That’s all.
(But, also, I feel old tonight and wondering what I was doing for so long)
Look at it this way: at least it’s an achievement which is making you feel older, and not the lack of one!
Better to think that you are getting old and wondering what you were doing for so long now, rather than thirty years from now. You have nothing but time, young lady.
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