When my friends said write a story, I was devastated. What story could I jot down to impress them? Nevertheless my writing skills is not as graceful as Shakespeare's. My ideas went blurry as I soon as I held the pen. I realised I was not a diamond in the rough. Completely not. My imagination was running wild but no words could describe the dream, the imagination I held in my mind. Grandmama said that a picture expressed more than thousands words. Perhaps I could get a storyline from the album, so I went to the attic to search for the old memories. But as soon as I opened the album, I didn't find a storyline but a story that looks like a fairytale to me. What did I found? Where would this story led me? Would I find a fairytale for myself as well.All Rights Reserved
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