I passed Mitch on the lower floor of the library. He was slouched down in his chair, camera hanging around his neck as he stared off at…well…I’m not sure what he was staring off at. I walked past him, paused and turned around to talk to him.
Turns out Mitch is in a photography class and was apparently lacking inspiration (when I asked if I could take his picture he said yes, but only if he could take mine. Anyone wanting to use me as a muse has to be desperate). He said he’d write in my journal, but that he only had a short time. He wasn’t kidding. This is by far the shortest entry to date. Despite being so short I have to admit that I think it’s one of the most intriguing because it leaves so many questions unanswered.
My name is Mitch.
I was born in Wisconsin and adopted into a family in Utah, I like it here.
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