The Lost Diary
"Oh No! It's gone!"
The voice is of your mother. You run out of your room to where she is, in the kitchen.
"What happened?"
"I've lost my diary. I had it with me while I was at the marketplace today. I must have put it set it aside somewhere and forgotten to pick it up."
Looking down, she starts pacing the floor, scratching her chin. "Your father will be here to eat soon and I need to prepare his meal."
Your father is the local blacksmith of the town. He comes home for his afternoon lunch on the days he works and enjoys a hefty, piping-hot feed.
Your mother stops her walking and raises her head. "Could you wander along to the market, dear? Once you're there, look around and see if you can find my diary. You're familiar with how it looks."
The voice is of your mother. You run out of your room to where she is, in the kitchen.
"What happened?"
"I've lost my diary. I had it with me while I was at the marketplace today. I must have put it set it aside somewhere and forgotten to pick it up."
Looking down, she starts pacing the floor, scratching her chin. "Your father will be here to eat soon and I need to prepare his meal."
Your father is the local blacksmith of the town. He comes home for his afternoon lunch on the days he works and enjoys a hefty, piping-hot feed.
Your mother stops her walking and raises her head. "Could you wander along to the market, dear? Once you're there, look around and see if you can find my diary. You're familiar with how it looks."