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is that a notebook?
where did that come from?
I lowered my chest to the ground to get a closer look, still gripping the flashlight firmly in my hand.
I narrowed my eyes at the notepad, scrutinising it's overall facade as much I possibly could from wear I lay, which was, inevitably, quite a distance away.
Naturally, it would be impossible for me to get a good look at it, considering how far away from me it was. But I managed to spot a few crucial details.
As far as I could tell, the cover of the notepad appeared to be quite beat up and worn, as if it had been flipped open and brought around often.
It also hinted that the notepad was really, really old. Ancient, if you will.
It really did look very, very familiar. For some unfathomable reason, I recognised that this was not the first time I had laid my eyes on it. I can very clearly remember using it, a lot, a very long time ago, maybe during my childhood. However, annoyingly, no matter how hard I wracked my brains, I could not remember what exactly I had used it for in the past.
Or more specifically, what I had written in it.
What did I write in there? I asked myself over and over again, all while still bent over, on the ground.
Oh, right, bent over on the ground, on my knees. An incredibly awkward position.
An incredibly uncomfortable position.
I shifted a little to the right, trying to sit more comfortably.
A sharp pain coursed through my spine.
Ow! My back! I swear I am aging way too quickly!
I stood up abruptly, desperate to free myself from the back torture I had subjected myself to.
That was not a good idea.
Crack!
My back protested in agony as I straightened, expressing it's displeasure with my sudden movement by causing a sear of pain to travel down my spine once again.
I grimaced in pain, gritting my teeth as wave after wave of pain pulsed through my back.
Holy mother of Jesus, I am becoming a grandfather!
