The winter had me thinking I was depressed. The melancholy of the endless snow drove the love out of my writing. But, the forget me nots on my lawn bloom again, the sun peaks out occasionally from the stormy spring clouds. And I got notifications yesterday about a certain young girl binge reading my work. I don't know if it's the spring, or if it's the reader's interest in the clumsy words I pen down, I found myself writing again. So, another chapter of Forget Me Not is out.
I was listening to Carla Bruni while writing this chapter. Maybe, listen to it to understand why I was writing the way I was?
