"Are you journaling?" He asked, looking down at the book on Emma's legs.
"I am writing," She said and could see how confused Eric looked, so she added. "I am a writer."
"Like Shakespeare?" He asked, raising his brows.
Emma chuckled. He was like every other typical person, who saw writing as probably something mundane.
"Yes, like Shakespeare but I haven't quite gotten to Shakespeare's level yet though."
"So, is this like a hobby or something?"
"I want it to be more than that. I want to make a living out of it one day. Sell thousands of copies of my books, be the best-selling author someday," Emma explained with so much excitement.
Eric noticed how her eyes shone, as she spoke about it but then the glow was drained out in a few seconds as her face fell and she looked down at her book.
