The house in the middle of the farmland, It's with small garden hedged with yew. Her room in the upstairs. The girl with cheeky cheeks wearing her favorite brown woolen sweater to get warm and to prevent from her enemy in her lungs, she loves to sing in her garden, she is not doing that now, she loves to write, she is not doing that now, because she is fighting with her enemy in the enemy favorite place. Yes it's winter. Sometimes in the war need to wait for our right chance to win it. So now she is in her hibernation, she went to her bed, she is in a deep sleep, she feels like she is in a dream, The window faces east with her painting art, The sun shines, It fills the room with it's golden Patel's.The room feels fresh and warm. Everything still quite other than birds and trees. The birds are singing outside. She feels someone whisper ing in her ears. The gentle wind whispers in her ear. Wake up little seed. Don't you know spring is here, she slowly tried to open her eyes, come out of the blanket and tried to get her first steps towards the balcony. She reached the balcony she saw the garden with colorful flowers, her cheeks are getting red, yes she is smiling. She come out of her woolen clothes not only from that she comes out of her hibernation. It's her chance to fight in her favorite place. She took her diary from her wooden table, she went her garden with her dancing steps, she sat on the chair in the garden and started writing, yes she is writing, she is the one who is writing this. Her dream to be a writer, Spring brings a new beginning to her dream.
