Dear Diary,
Hate week is coming up and I am truely tiered. I write this sitting in a chair above Mr. Charrington's shop. I feel that renting this room was a good decision, if not impulsive. Julia and I both agree it will be nice to have a place to meet in private. Of course it is a hasle avoiding patrol men on the way here, but worth it. Julia is set to arive any time now. I've brought the glass paper weight along with me. It seems as though the coral is contained inside its own little glass world, as I am contained in this room. If only we could stay here forever listening to the sounds of women working and children laughing in the twilight.
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