Irish Guiness & German Kisses

It was an ordinary day at the library.
You stroll slowly through the narrow aisles. Your fingers glide almost automatically over the spines of the books while your gaze wanders over the hundreds of titles.

Plop.

Startled, you stop.
A book suddenly lay right at your feet.

You crouch down, astonished, and carefully pick it up. Its cover is made of dark green leather which is already worn at the edges. Delicate golden embellishments run across it, but there is no title.

Curious, you turn to the first page.
The yellowed pages rustle softly.

Your eyes then get stuck on the first words:

'Dear Diary...'

This is no ordinary novel. Not a made-up story. But the thoughts of a real person. Someone's memories. Secrets. Feelings that were probably never meant to be seen by anyone else.

You almost startle yourself as you close the book again.
You simply hold it in your hands for a moment.

It would be wrong to continue reading.

Or would it?