Leave my diary alone the note on the fridge door said.
I couldn’t, of course. I read my brother’s diary, read about his self-loathing, his suicidal thoughts.
“I told you to leave it alone. I know it was you because my yogurts are gone. And you’ve eaten my special cheese.”
He throws the crumpled note at me.
Ah, my brother meant dairy not diary. He never could spell.
That evening, I slip a note under his bedroom door: We never talk and we should. Love Sis.
A note comes back in reply.
8 PM. My room. Bring special cheese.
D.M. about 9 years ago
Diary/ dairy, so clever! This is a gem.
There's nothing like shared special cheese!
Julie about 9 years ago
@D.M. - Thanks! It's one of those words that can easily trip you up, especially if you're typing at speed.
Julie about 9 years ago
@Drew Martyn - Thank you!
Julie about 9 years ago
Thanks, D.M.