Mark wanted me to write. Of course, not professionally, but he wanted me to write. And he'd love it if I'd do it by our beach ( I suppose wind swept hair, white washed bench and sea spray are part of the picture). Why not? I've already got a book in the making (Mark himself is co-author, although he has no contribution YET)! Sort of. Started filling the journal. Whenever I hold the book, I feel my mind instantaneously rummage for memories and words. I think I have finally found my passion. I didn't mean writing, silly.