Writing Dump

~01~

May 2, 2014

Dear Diary,

Hello. I got you as a gift years ago. I was looking through my closet and found a box, in that box was a bunch of books, including you. It is strange to keep a diary for my age, but no one will know, so I suppose it's okay. But, unfortunately, I am no good at writing in journals, much less keeping up with them. So I guess I will tell you a story if I have one. So goodbye for now.

A month later.

June 3, 2014

Dear Diary,

I decided to drive to the city nearby. It isn't as close, but it is ten miles away. I haven't been in town since two weeks ago. There was a new coffee shop; it had tinted windows and was a bit plain. Without the sign, you would mistake it for an empty place. I went inside the coffee shop and was surprised to see it fully decorated. It felt warm and cozy.

"Hello," A woman said at the front counter; she looked younger than me. "Would you like anything?" She looked charming. She had long blonde hair in a ponytail and beautiful blue eyes. I have always liked looking into people's eyes. She was a bit shorter than me and was pale. She also had nice makeup. I even liked her painted nails. She's distinctive from me. I had black hair at a reasonable length and dull grey eyes. I'm tall and have a darker brown/reddish skin tone.

"Oh, uh, well- I uh" I fucking hate it when I stutter; it's so unprofessional and makes me look weak. 'Shit, I haven't had human contact in forever,' I thought.

I looked at the menu and just went with black coffee. "Uh, can I have black coffee and a biscuit? please?"

"Black coffee? My, you are a strange person; I sure hope you don't murder someone."

Diary, I do not know what is wrong with black coffee, but it sure does seem she thought I had bad intentions. Was it because I stuttered?

"Yes? I mean yes to the black coffee, not the murder." Then she started laughing.

"Hahaha! Alright, then, black coffee and a biscuit are coming right up! You can take a seat while you wait!" With that, she started singing a song I couldn't recognize.

Meanwhile, I waited and looked at all the decorations. This place is probably so small because of the number of trinkets on the shelf, much like my home. There were small figurines and plushies from movies, T.V shows, etc. Multiple clocks were placed on the walls, along with posters from the 80s. I flicked the piggy banks and started dusting the shelves and trinkets with my hand.

"You know you don't need to clean this place up. Or does it bother you?" She asked from the counter, putting the biscuit in a bag.

"Seeing dust bothers me, but I am allergic to it, so..."

"Yeah, I can see that your eyes are starting to gloss."

"Yup."

"Say, you seem like a charming but shy person."

"Thank you."

Diary, you are not the first journal I had, but I have never told any book that many people told me the same thing throughout my childhood, but I always thought it was a form of being polite.

"Well, your order is ready."

"Thank you."

"That'll be twenty dollars!"

"T-twenty dollars?!" Jesus, this girl or whoever owns this place must be crazy! Who charges twenty dollars for a small cup of coffee and a biscuit?

"BAHAHAHAHA!!! I'm just messing with you! It was just six dollars."

"Oh, thank god."

"You should come by more often; it gets lonely here."

"Maybe you guys should fix the front. When I first came in, I thought it was for sale." I said while handing her the money.

"True, I'm just low on money and don't have the skills to put something nice together. So I only bake and make coffee."

"Well, if you ever need a painter, call me." I have no idea why I said she should call me when I haven't even given her my number.

"Hmmm, I can tell you like to paint."

"How? Oh, my fingers."

"And forearms."

"Ah, yes, and my forearms."

"I'll take up the offer if you give me your phone number; I have no way of communicating with you other than by chance we talk in person."

I gave her my number, and she called me. I edited her profile, and so did she. "What's your name?" Darn it; I forgot to say my name; extremely unprofessional.

"Sorry, my name is Eclaire."

"Eclaire? Wow, that's a very nice name. Can you guess my name?"

I just read her nametag out loud. "Lacey. Your name's Lacey."

"Correct! My name is Lacey, but you can call me Lace since we're besties now!"

"We are?"

"Well, if you want to!"

"Uh, sure, yeah, let's be friends!" I haven't had friends in almost six years. Unfortunately, I lost them due to an accident. Since then, I have always wondered why didn't I die?

"Nice! You know, you are someone I know's type."

"Really?" Now I was genuinely confused. I didn't think I was anyone's type. I thought I was destined to be single, and I was okay with that.

"Yes, hmmm. Tell me, what's your type?"

"Uh, well, I don't have a type. But I let go of that dream a long time ago."

"But you're so pretty! I don't know you yet, but I feel you dated stupid guys."

"No, I think they're smart for letting me go."

"I beg to differ."

"Thank you, though. Well, it's getting late, and I need to return home."

"But it's only five in the afternoon."

"I like to get home early, and I got a Great Dane waiting for me at home."

"Oh, okay! well, enjoy!"

Diary, it's getting late, and I will continue this later. Goodnight. I am so happy I have a new best friend.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hello Everybody!

She writes the dialogue and all that stuff down if anyone is confused. How does she remember? Well, let us say she got a great memory.

Y'all, I just searched up Eclair, and it's food. I had no idea. I combined my friend's middle name with my sister's first initial. And voila! Eclaire.

Art: http://debrasisson.blogspot.com/2013/02/open-country-road-oil-painting.html

Please take care of yourself.

:)