Today it's exactly one month + one day to go until my twentieth birthday. My parents keep asking me what I want for present. As a kid you know exactly what you want. For me I saw it on some commercial on TV. But now as an adult (Just as well I get used to the word) I don't have a clue. I told them I want a pocket trumpet (color red) and an experience. I'll say I'm not cheap. But the things I wish for is not many and nowadays it's often only one thing I wish for. To be truly honest I'm wishing for sun and warmth the weekend I'm turning twenty. That's my only wish and that's something no one can give me.
Anyway, I keep writing on my novel, laughing at every sentence I'm writing. I don't care if I'll ever get it published or if I find anyone else also liking it. It brings joy to myself, all me. When I finish I'm going to be awful proud of myself.
PS. Thanks Josefine for the wonderful support and the encourage to keep writing Soldier.