A Few Words

[Cora Ashby]

December 16th, 1885

Dear Diary,

I have gone and insulted Mister Browne today at work in the tea room. I shall never forgive myself. One, for allowing such devotion to ignoring my writing in this book; and two, for assuming that I for one could distance myself professionally from a wonderful young man that deserves the stars and I am not one.

Such ickle fancies drive silly schoolgirls with no drive. I should focus on my work and not how my heart flutters when he speaks to me. I sometimes worry myself with how lovely I find Gideon Browne. Surely his idea was just as innocent as my own! I should be more aware of my feelings instead of denying his offer outright.

I wonder, though, if he knows of how he hurt me in the worst and best of ways. I know now not to follow my heart but my head and be logical and distant and driven. Perhaps a pleasant avoidance shall do us both good.

  

[Cora Ashby]

December 25th, 1885

Dear Diary,

Christmas is now such a lonely time since the Plague. I struggle every passing day on what to do without a mother to console me. Fathers are no help on matters of the heart. I do, however, feel apologetic about how I treated Mister Browne and my subsequent actions. I do hope he received my owl this morning with a new silk necktie. I just do hope to be able to see him wear it if he decides to keep it.

  

[Cora Ashby]

December 26th, 1885

Dear Diary,

Another entry regarding Mister Browne it seems. How silly I am, but one day I hope to remember the one time in my life, or rather several times in my life, that I kept butterflies in my stomach.

And this morning was one such moment that butterflies caused a somersaulting stomach. I, as I hopefully rightly assume, was gifted a mortar and pestle from Gideon. It is truly lovely and I cannot wait to break it in.

Perhaps he shall be wearing the tie I sent him when I use the mortar and pestle. I can only hope, as silly as that sounds.

  

[Cora Ashby]

January 1st, 1886

Dear Diary,

How foolish I am to believe everything that happens happens for a reason. I fear to die a spinster but such is the path I am heading. Sure, a career is important for a man and yet as an intern to be a Healer I feel hardly worth the time I put into such an important field.

Perhaps I am tired and perhaps just too hard on myself. Time well surely tell me the truth of what I am to do and accomplish in life if it is to be anything of importance. Perhaps resigning myself to spinsterdom this young is a mistake. I shall endeavor to take one step at a time to hopefully balance my future.

  

[Cora Ashby]

November 20th, 1886

Dear Diary,

How silly am I to neglect such a useful device for nearly a year. I have been so driven, so focused, that no matter how often I glanced at this bound book with its empty pages, I woefully refrained from writing the things on my mind to get it off my chest. 

It being frustrations, but even I cannot believe I never wrote even a sentence in the last year. Perhaps nervousness, or fright lead me to not put it up. I have made it a personal goal to write in this diary at least once a day from now on. Hopefully I can.

  

[Cora Ashby]

December 20th, 1886

Dear Diary,

I love Christmastime. I bought Gideon another Christmas present this year, but I am very afraid to send it. We haven't spoken much and I fear the reaction this gift might cause. 

That aside, if I ever marry I would want it to be in the wintertime. Snow is just so lovely and just think about musical ice sculptures. The very idea makes me shudder with excitement.