Chapter11

#Chapter11

Oh my, this is gorgeous. I think to myself looking around the room.

The walls are painted soft beige, one of my favourite colours, and the floor is covered with soft carpet.

But what matters the most is that this is some sort of an office; an office for writers.

There's a bookshelf with all my favourite classic novels and even a few books about being a better writer. There's a desk on which rests a new-looking laptop, but my most favourite thing is the bench next to the ceiling-high window, looking out on the forests of England, and I swear I can see sea in the distance.

Tears start to pool in my eyes. /"Axel, I- this is way too much, Axel, I can't, oh my god./" it seems like I'm unable to move from my spot, standing like I was frozen in place, holding my hands to my mouth.