...
Something is sitting there unassumingly, hoping in silence that you won't notice it's there.
Before you sits a heavily worn journal made from rough cut wooden planks and haphazardly sliced dark leather. The front and back of the wooden cover appears to have been painstakingly smoothened out, however the edges have clearly suffered, with chips and gashes ruining the wood's otherwise decent finish. The soft, velvety leather that hugged the spine was of a greater comfort to the hands, albeit the way it had been cut out could have been slightly better. A piece of black cloth ribbon tied to look like a ribbon, its ends threatening to fray, runs out from the center of the mound of uneven, dog-eared, and slightly damaged parchment pages, their imperfections revealing themselves once the journal is inspected from the side. A simple lock system involving a leather strip and a metal clasp secures the fat volumes of paper into place, and a poorly made drawing of a sword with a fat end and a thin hilt has been carved onto the front cover, thus completing the antique novelty of the journal.
You are holding the diary of Sigrun M. Dominic.
Page Code :
