A diary

It’s on the ground.

In the grass by the corner of the road. Either accidentally dropped or purposely discarded.

It’s a small 2024 diary. Small enough to fit in the palm of your hand. A cheap, unbranded Moleskine look-a-like. Black soft cover with the year stamped on the front, black ribbon bookmark, black elastic closure.

The personal details are empty. As are the emergency contact details. There’s a monthly planner and then a weekly planner on every double-page spread. With a tiny box of each month’s date on the bottom right corner of every spread. There are contact details at the back. All empty.

There are a few pages of notes. The only thing written in this diary is on one of those pages.

It’s in black pen. And it says Client # Ing 653 775 71.