1 The Last page

The nib sat still on the crushed paper, that has been shredded from the brown worn out diary.

She twirls her hair, whilst her mind dissolves in the irony of life.

Eyes so lost, it failed to blink.

The tiny fly buzzing outside the window, steered her mind back to the empty room.

She gently turns the page over, and runs her hand through the paper, as though she could feel her thoughts on the blank piece.

The book possesses all her secrets. It is her solace. It is the only thing that would hear her, embraces her, and emanates her soul. The book is the reflection of her life, captured in pages.

She reaches over the rusty key-ring from the old wooden basket, stuffed with rugs. It was the first gift. And just like the corroded metal piece, the memories are long-gone.

"How could I jot an end to this fairy tale without a happy ending?" she yowled.