User:William Pickett

I still remember that day. The day when I decided I wanted be a writer. It was bright and sunny, and I was walking to school. My sweet neighbor, Mrs. Simmons handed me a candy as I passed her home, just like she did everyday. That day she gave me a red one. My favorite color. And I knew it meant something special. She kissed my forehead and told me (like she did everyday) that I reminded her of her grand-daughter, who had died at the age of 9. That day, she said she had a secret to tell me. She said that her grand-daughter, Emma always wanted to be a writer. Mrs. Simmons told me how much she missed Emma, and gave me a copy of David Copperfield, from Emma's cupboard. She said that was the least she could do and just smiled a mysterious smile. I was already a voracious reader at age 12 then, and was jubilated to receive a classic! So I just thanked her and left for school.