Greetings, esteemed readers. It is my utmost pleasure to introduce to you our new serial - perhaps another summer serial that will find itself going for another full year. Do enjoy, and don’t miss the links at the beginning of each installment. We’ve got some nifty tags now, so just click on the tags to see all installments. You can also see every serial written by our most dedicated author, Matisse Mozer. Exciting, no? Knock yourselves out, kids.
Sally’s Chocolate Diary by Matisse Mozer
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June 6—Overture
Ciao! Ciao, buon giorno, comé stai? Mi chiamo Sally and Mom didn’t teach me enough Italian to finish that overly happy introduction, so I’m just going to start over in English.
Hello there!
My name is Sally, as you probably saw. I’m sixteen years old and I will be in the eleventh grade. My hobbies are eating, sleeping, and not causing myself or others physical harm.
Now, I don’t usually keep diaries or journals or whatever, and with good cause. For the longest time, writing in a diary just seemed to me like pure suicide. If I have feelings and thoughts that I can’t say out loud, then they shouldn’t be committed to paper, either. I mean, then people can read it without you ever knowing. And I’m older now, too; what if I did something stupid and Dad read about it?
For example! There was this one time in fifth grade where Mom snooped around in my diary and found out that I was failing Math. If she had read the whole thing, she would have seen that I was actually using my F in Math as a cosmic literary metaphor to debate the meaning of life (for a ten-year-old) but Mom saw it as, you know, me failing Math. Go figure.
That said, you’re obviously reading what amounts to my diary, so something had to change.
Long story short, I moved out of Colorado. After the divorce, Dad got this job out on the Island, so we packed up and left without much of a going-away party. He works weird hours, but that isn’t the colossal injury to our precious father-daughter bond that the media swears is so important. Dad used to work two jobs, so he was already gone all day. He would come home while I was asleep, and then turn around and leave before I woke up. During those wonderful years, I would go to Mom’s after school and do homework until it got late. Once we moved to California and Mom stayed in Colorado, I lost that option. I also lost Mom.
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