General

The note book sat heavy in the palm of his hand. It wasn't a large book or particularly thick, but inside lay the answer he had sought all his life. It was his mother's. She had left it in a box next to him when she abandoned him on the subway eighteen years ago. His new parents thought it better not to let him have it until he was an adult. He looked down at the tatty leather bound book that was held closed with an old shoe lace. He stood there immobile while the woman who had raised him looked on, tense but trying to appear at ease. Then a weight lifted off his shoulders and he handed it back unopened. "Mum," he said "I've got all I need right here."

By james, October 23, 2014.
General

Spiral bound, old, brittle yellow pages, new, crisp white pages, unsullied pages, narrow pages, narrow lines, untidy scrawl, looping and convoluted handwriting, hard to decipher, secret, written in invisible ink, battered cover, dog-eared pages, pocket-size, too large to be convenient, bulky, slim, wafer thin, obviously had had pages torn out, looked like it belonged in a child's party bag, belonged to a spy, belonged to an underworld criminal, would be dangerous in the wrong hands, was crammed with shorthand writing and crazy symbols drawn hastily in the margins, was all written in code, was in a language I'd never heard of.

By angela, April 7, 2012.