I stepped out today. The air was so cool and frigid. I actually loved it. But I love it more from my room. Passersby were smiling. I think they miss me even though they don’t know me. I got some foodstuff from the shop across. The cashier was smiling too. I think they’re sorry for killing Fluffy. Well, I’ve forgiven them. But I don’t think I’d be out much often. I need to finish my book. I’ve been writing. I’m just trying to be more disciplined. And I think it’s working. I make sure that I pen something down every day. Remember the character I told you about, the one that just won’t die? I think he’s eventually going to die. It’s not my fault. I mean, I can’t tell the fate of every character in my book. I just write and let the story tell itself. By the way, how’s work?