The near-by neighbourhood had some really nice sceneries to get inspiration from. I felt as if I had discovered a new world. I think my writing became better too.
I started feeling more. New feelings that felt so foreign, but right.
When the weather was hot, I hid underneath the crown of the big old oak-trees that lived around here. There were about a dozen, really big ones. They looked powerful and full of energy. One of them especially attracted me. Secretly, I had made him my favorite. No one knew. It was just me and the oak-tree that shared this thought.
Under the Oak-tree I wrote my essays, for the courses.

That day I had to write about a life changing experience. It could be fiction, it could be real experience,  but it would be counted as made-up anyway. That was a rule in the courses – to not connect the writings with the authors.

I wrote about a little girl who’s mother went to heaven.
She saw her mother in her dreams where her dearest person always said ancouraging words to her daughter, telling the little girl to listen to her heart and never let go of what’s important to her, just like her mother did.

“You were my treasure. As long as I had you, as long as I could keep you close to my heart, I was the happiest. Now I’ll stay alive in your heart and live with nothing but happiness. Share this feeling with me. Be happy! I love you, my little one. ”


I went to my dear Oak-tree one early morning. The weather was so nice that I couldn’t help it! I had to go to work right after so I could only stay there for a little while.

I heard the sound of a bicycle run past me. My eyes flew open.
“!”

I got up and ran to my workplace. It was 8:37. Work started at 9, but I had to be there half an hour before I started. I couldn’t believe I had fallen asleep under the oak-tree. It was that peaceful there.


“You’re late,” said Wen, (a girl that worked at the same supermarket that I did) when I arrived, face red, panting from the fast running just moments ago.

Our job was relitively easy – we had to put products on shelves and check their prices. The pay was, ofcourse, appropriate for it.

“I know,” I tried showing an apologetic look.
“It’s okay, you can just stay for longer today.”
“No way! We already have long working hours as it is!”
“I’m just kidding,” she laughed. “Relax. There’s not much to do today anyway.”

She enjoyed pulling my leg. I was an easy target after all. Easy to fool.

Or so she thinks. It’s fun that way, for the both of us. She doesn’t have to know that I’m only acting this way.


After a tiring day at work, I wanted to relax a bit so after the most delicious dinner ever made by the nicest person alive – my housemate  granny – I made myself a cup of coffee with milk and sugar, grabbed a book from the shelf and sat down in front of my table.
Reading makes me think of a lot of things and today was no exception.
It made me think…
And what I thought of was…

‘WHERE THE HELL IS MY NOTEBOOK?’
I rushed around my S sized room. It was not here, for sure.

The Oak-tree!

Luckily, it was still light outside as it was late spring already. I put on my sneakers and grabbed a jacket, as I rushed outside my living space.
Granny must have been confused by my actions. I will explain it later. She’ll understand.

I was sweating and panting and my face was red just like before. It was the second time that day, that I had ran so furiously.

As I was coming closer to the Oak-tree, I slowed down.
Someone was sitting there. Holding a book that looked familiar…
It was my notebook!

I walked over quickly but not aggresively. Scaring the person was not my intention.

“Hey, um, sorry.. that’s mine…”
The person looked up from my notebook. (She had been reading my notes!!!) I had seen her before. She looked a little different though..her eyes were teary.

Her sleeve was put to her eyes instantly realizing the situation. The tears were swept away.
\Why was she crying?\

She shut the notebook close and jumped up from her sitting position.

“Oh, sorry…it was left here and I got curious..I didn’t mean to read it like this! I sincerely apologise.” She bowed slightly, reaaching out her hands to give me the notebook.
Oh, I remember now. She was the one with the grass-green dress.

She had a black sweater with a wolf and a moon on it and black skinny jeans, I suppose. Her hair was swept back and up in a high ponytail. A completely different feeling from before.

“No, it’s not entirely your fault. I was the one who carelessly left it here, so there’s no need for you to apologise like this.”

“Ah, well, I still feel a little bad about reading it without a permission so…”

“Don’t worry about it so much, really, I would have been curious in your place too!” I smiled as she chuckled gently.

“I will take my leave now,” the girl bowed again, I copied her.

I was just glad the notebook was still there, all my notes were there.

“Hey,  since I already read it, I have to say – the story about that little girl – it was beautifully written. It touched my heart to the deepest.”

I didn’t get to answer, when that person had turned and started walking away already. A bashful smile blossomed on my lips

“…thank you.”


No one apart from my writing courses buddies had heard my stories. She was the first. And it was always me reading it so there were parts I added, some that I didn’t read. She saw the raw version, the unedited one.

I felt like I had been exposed. Mentally .