I was looking for some lined paper earlier today to do a bit of writing and found a part of a story that I’d written. I’ve not written a story in a while because I feel like I’ve lost my skill with it.

Looking at the piece of writing which was a few A5 pages long I was amazed at the piece. I’m not saying it is the best thing I’ve ever read but I certainly wanted to read on, then I realised it was my story and only I could end it.

It’s weird when you see what you used to be like, how you thought in a different state of mind. I hope that this year I can go back to being a confident writer again because I’m sure I was much happier then, until then it’ll just be poetry and the odd dialogue. I’ll type up what I wrote this weekend to show this old piece but it’s better than what I can do these days.