Nevaeh

  Nevaeh had the thought of picking up her pen for the umpteenth time that day, but somehow something finally made her decide against it. After all, she was trying to sleep, and it was past midnight.

   Why on earth wouldn't she write, she wondered to herself. She had so much to write about, so much worth penning down. Nevaeh thought about that for a while... pick up a pen to pen something down. Interesting.

   But after all, what was the use of spending four months away from home if she didn't write about it? All the experiences and adventures lived would be only known to herself and her memory, but...

   Were they really worth the effort? Were they worth sharing with, say, the closest acquaintances? She thought, suddenly, of the thrill someday, if it happened, her daughters would feel when reading a certain small, red book of hers...

   So she picked up her pen, after all.