Today's my birthday, and I'm excited. I jumped out of the bed, and headed straight towards the study room to get my diary. Dear diary, yesterday I saw my aunt reading a book. It was a thick one. And, today's my birthday, therefore I'm going to ask my parents to buy me the same book. She said the book is interesting. I want to check it out too. Just as I was writing, I heard dad park his car in the driveway. I closed my diary, and ran downstairs. I hear mom laughing and talking to dad. "Dad! Did you bring my Birthday cake?" I asked, my lips spread wide across my face. I am grinning widely, showing my teeths. "Oh yes dear, I did" he replies, softly and calmly. "Dad, I want a gift." I said. "And, what kind of gift do you expect me?" He asked, his voice slightly filled with curiosity. "A book" I replied, softly and quietly but loud enough for him to hear. "A book?" He repeats. "Yes, a big book" I said. "Hmm, do you have any book names in your mind that you want me to buy?" He asked. "Oh yes, I do! A book called 'white nights'!" I exclaimed. "A book called 'white nights'? Do you know the author name?" He asks, softly. His voice clearly shows that he's going to buy me the book. "Lizzy?" I suddenly snapped out of my thoughts. "Oh yes, dad?" I replied. "Do you know the name of the author?" He asked. "I don't know. It's hard to pronounce, dad. But, aunty has that book. Perhaps, she can tell us." I exclaimed, my voice clearly showing enthusiasm. Dad took out his phone and called aunt Lucy. "Hello? Lucy? Do you have a book called 'White nights? Oh, you do have it!" Dad talks on call with his sister, my aunt. After some time of them talking, dad hangs up and winks at me, giving me a thumbs up. "Did she tell you the book author's name, dad?" I asked, my voice filled with curiosity. "Yes, she did. It's some russian guy called Fyodor Dostoevsky."
YOU ARE READING
A Miserable Soul
PoetryIt's a classics novel. It's about a little girl growing up and being into poetry, and learning about new poets, depressed ones.
