I'm not writing much, I know.
It's been... tough. I used to write a lot, back when I wasn't really, I don't know how to say this well. I can't describe it, it's like I am losing hope, I don't find it necessary to write a small diary that nobody will read and it'll probably die with me. Am I having a main character moment over here or what?
Mason was quiet today. Not his usual quiet, where he just liked ignoring me. This was different. His shoulders were tense. His eyes kept scanning the distance like he expected something bad to happen.
I wanted to ask, but I already knew the answer: Not a story for now.
So, we kept walking.