There is this person it is a girl. As I observe she sits there on the carmel colored porch, with a notebook placed in her hands. Her hair is short and silky. Also, it is the color of dark chocolate. She sits at the porch until dusk writing her thoughts down. The thoughts and feelings pour down on the blue sea colored notebook, they pour down on the notebook like million of raindrops that form a river that never ends. The petite girl's pen flows on her fragile, peachy hand like a smooth piece of glass. Then at the end, her dark brown eyes look left to right repeatedly until she makes her writing perfect.
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