By Stella Pollock, TIWP Student

Torn pages fluttered as the breeze flipped words of the soul back and forth
The leather cover was worn
And the scuffs and stains told a story of their own
One of being carried around by a doting owner for decades
The writing inside was nearly impossible to decipher
Each line on the page contained two lines of text
But despite the sheer volume of them
1,000 pictures would not have held the same value as just one of these words
The entries dated back to 1948
Skimming through the pages
I saw not only the evolution of this individual’s handwriting
But the evolution of their character
How the journeys they wrote so diligently about morphed a hopeful spirit into a weathered one
This writing transports me to a reality where I’ve known this person for longer than a lifetime
Their slanted scripture revealed their dreams, their passions, their stories to me
But one thing I will never know is their name