Literature doodling

Sitting in on a Sunday night apparently makes you creative. Or so my brain thought earlier. This is just a bit of doodling...

I would like to write you a love story. To capture your imagination and make you believe there is such a thing as true love. The kind of butterfly churning, fuchsia glasses, head over heels, crazy kind.
It could begin with the elegant meeting of two strangers or the realisation between ancient friends. Either way, the story would follow the same plot; passion, heartbreak and determination and all over in the blink of an eye.
But things are not always lost; sometimes they are just put aside for a while, scribbled down in a notebook or recited to grandchildren.
I have no grandparents, so I didn’t hear this story through them. Nothing was ever narrated to me, therefore nothing was put aside. But there was a notebook, found in a pile of old books we had collected whilst sorting through my Grandmother’s possessions.
I always loved going through her stuff, it always brought back such beautiful memories. She was a wonderful woman and the best Grandma a little girl could have ever asked for.
The closed book intrigued me; what secrets lived within those pages? As with any new book the excitement and mystery lead my fingers to examine it in more detail.
The book was made from small pieces of lined paper, bounded together with two pieces of faded ribbon. Its hand crafted appearance added to the increasing curiosity taking over my brain. It smelt of times gone by and underneath a smattering of dust hid the words ‘My diary’.
Right then, in that moment I knew what I was holding was gold. My Grandma had opened her world to me, like never before. The newspaper thin pages smiled up at me, inviting me to read them. Turning the first page I glanced down, letting my eyes scan the rolling writing, which was flowing horizontally along the paper.

‘September 3rd 1950

Who ever would have thought it! Jack Dearing and me. He is everything a man should be, smart, funny and has the most amazing smile ever. Last night was perfect, we went to the movies. Mother wasn’t happy about me coming back so late (10pm) but I think she could tell by my constant smile, that very little would have altered my happy mood. So thankfully she didn’t have words till this morning. I don’t think 10pm is that late. He said he would call me today and he did! We talked for ages, about everything. He’s so interesting. Every time he spoke my tummy cart wheeled. Look at me now, I’m smiling like a Cheshire cat. I have never felt like this before, it’s a lovely feeling. Every time I think of him (which is an awful lot- I can’t help it) I go all silly. It’s hard to explain it.

P.s Seeing Jack tomorrow. Night night xxx.’

Closing the diary I began to share my Grandma’s happiness. Maybe I had found my love story…