pinkpunch
The journal had obviously been sitting up here for quite some time. I found myself snorting out snootful of dust as I climbed up the ladder to the attic. The binding was badly worn, but as long as I could read the precious contents, all would be well.
Daniel flipped through the vivid scenes depicted in glistening ink. He was only 12, but a camera hung loosely on a strap around his neck. He was going to make pictures like that too.
writing since 2012 · 4 entries · 3 days shown up
each square is a day—lit means Pink showed up.
1longest streak
3days written
1.9entries / week
the words Pink reaches for
hopedvividpicturesheadfilleduselessexcusesrefusejobchosedreamedworkingpresidentfamilynowpapers