Arthur Kirkland's Personal Journal:
22/3
7:04
It's very rare to meet someone who is genuine, but I guess Alfred wasn't exactly your average man.
Despite having a mouth made of honey-coated daggers, his bright eyes were pair of hidden galaxies that made me repeatedly fall in love with him.
I never worked up the courage to ask him out, say a casual greeting, or even introduce myself, before he was leaping to his feet and leaving with the breeze, abadoning his childhood with only a gentle wave.
I remember him though, especially on the lonely days where I stare out of my window and feel the whirlwinds; they return me to the memories of Alfred F. Jones.
And now I shall pass on these thoughts to you, Journal.