The Little Black Notebook

So, I'm climbing this tree, right? And I put my hand in one of those bits where your hand fits just right so you can pull yourself higher, when I feel something in there. Yeah! I know! Weird, right?

So, I'm a bit spooked out by this so I pull my hand out, right and jump down. I get my phone and I shine the torch in that hole, except it's not a hole, it's like a crack but trees don't have cracks, so I don't know what you'd call it but there's something in there, right?

So, I'm thinking, This might be a trap! What is this shit? But I'm no wimp, right so I put my hand in and pull out this notebook.

I mean, what the fuck, right? Who puts stuff like this into trees? I mean, eggs and shit like that, fair enough, but a crappy little notebook?

So, I pull that sucker out and shove it in my back pocket and climb that tree, just because I can. To be honest, I forgot it was there until my mum found it in my washing and cursed me for leaving it in there. Boy, was she angry! Beefing and yapping about it, how it would've messed up the machine, I should be more careful! Yap, yap, yap!

Anyway, I forgot about it again. I mean, I'm not really sure why I took it. I don't do no writing. That ain't me. I'd do a voice note I want to say anything. Who has a pen nowadays? Unless they're using it as a weapon. These are the times we live in, my friend! Pens are shivs!

But that notebook? Saved my life, man. Saved. My. Life. How? You think it was a knife, right? Some bro tried to stab me, man and it got in the way. Na, not that.

See, I'm a romantic, me! Yeah, man! No shitting you! I gave it to this writer girl from my English class. She is fine! And smart! She loves it. Writes poetry and stories and shit in it.

And you know, we hang. Keeps me off the streets.

That tree, yeah? What a gift!

***

366 words

This story can be read on its own but might be better read with this one:

I was curious about what happened to that notebook. Were you?

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