Dear Diary Book Novels & Stories

The fragrance of a baby, which makes me feel at home kissing and lingering in the smell of the baby. Luckily, I wrote my mom number. Because I believe something like this can happen. With, take the diary, which is piled in the suitcase. Outdated diary. Special books for writing, actual numbers, writing debts, and books for writing goals that I will pursue this year. This book it's been a long time since I was in college. Book, with a pink cover. I never opened this book again. I opened the book and smelled the old paper. Name: Rananta Asmira

I said,my voice firm. She nods, her hands on her thighs for balance. I watch her face tighten with effort. A second passes, Then I hear the first trickle. Warm golden piss hits my chest, Splashing against my skin. It's hot, like liquid heat spreading out. The stream is stronger, hitting me right in the center of my chest. running down in rivulets over my nipples and stomach. The smell hits me—sharp, musky, all her. I love it. My chest gets soaked fast.

I had always assumed that it was something I did wrong when I was a child, something I was punished for but now I knew I did nothing wrong, this was just my cursed fate. Picking up the diary as instructed, and examining it first, I noticed a lot of things. It was a brown worn out big book decorated with gems. I could see from the side that its pages were worn out and some were even torn. “Whose diary is it?” I wondered anxiously, I knew it belonged to one of them but only when I opened it would I find who it actually belonged to, so I tried to open it but I couldn't. It didn't have a lock, didn't have any password slot, it looked like an ordinary book but it just wouldn't open up.

"Dear diary, I was this close today. This close to making a ground-breaking invention. But the sulphuric acid rusted IT. I think we might need to change the acid used..." A series of calculations was included on the first page. No matter how many times I read it, I couldn't understand the calculation. Who wrote this? I flipped the book and looked at the front cover. There was no name. Quickly, I checked the other books and saw that they were all journals with the same handwriting.

With trembling hands, I approached it, my fingers brushing against the rough wood. With a creak, I lifted the lid, revealing a treasure trove of forgotten memories. Among the yellowed pages and faded photographs, my gaze landed on a leather-bound diary. It was weathered with time, its once vibrant cover now worn and aged. I knew instinctively that this diary held the answers we had been searching for.

The young woman asked as she finished smearing the rice powder on her face, being careful not to get cadaverous. Helga didn't answer her question, it made Artemisia think she really might be missing out on the rest of the normalcy she could be proud to have, instead the maid just picked up a red-cover book that was on the table near Artemisia's canvases. When Helga put that book in front of Artemisia, the young woman realized that it was a diary, on the lower right side had the name of her great-aunt engraved on the leather cover with golden letters, it was probably engraved with gold.

The last thing I want is for Samantha to walk in on me sneaking through her stuff; she already has trust issues as it is. My eyes catch on a notebook; it looks like a diary. It has the inscription, Dark stories by twisted minds, do not open. I pick the book up, my curiosity instantly piqued. I rise from my squatting position to sit on the edge of the bed. I flip through the pages to see how many there are, and it's well gone, over 500 pages. I should drop the book out of the room the same way I worked out, but I can't.

Like You gave me mine. Dear Diary, Thank you for accompanying me this far. Thank you for being willing to accept all my complaints. And thank you for accompanying the lonely years of my life. (You can read Abigail's story in the book titled "Wedding Agreement")

I start to write, my hand moving quickly across the paper: "Dear Diary, Today is the day I decided to spend an entire day naked. I know it sounds crazy, but I just couldn't resist the urge. I'm going to do everything naked – watch TV, eat, clean the house, maybe even dance around a little. I'm not sure what possessed me to do this, but I'm excited to see where the day takes me. Wish me luck!"

The hard cover book stared at him as he contemplated writing on it. He needed someone to hear his thoughts, if not someone, something. He gently opened the book and flipped pages after pages that he had written when he was sober and other times when he wasn't, his words were crude and blunt. Dear diary, I realized something too late, and it is the fact that I don't want to move on. I want to continue to love her and her, me. Every happy moments should be with me Clarissa, and not someone else....