Creative Writing Series 5

5.     Aerobics, a secret diary, and something unpleasant under the bed.

Aerobics are a killer. I go there three times a week and every time I feel like I'm about to collapse. The instructor stands at the front perfectly skinny in her black leotard. Mocking us.

“You’re doing great!” she says in her perky voice while we splutter for breath in front of her.

“Keep going!” I feel the urge to punch her.  I don’t know why I torture myself with this pursuit. She probably is really nice and means well but all I know is that three time a week her voice is like a soundtrack to agony.

“Well Done! See you all next week!” I groan out a response before collapsing on the floor for a second before rising to get my stuff and change.

The people leaving the room are all commenting on what a great class it is. I just want to get home.

In the deserted changing room at the end of the hall I discover something under the wooden bench. I am vaguely surprised as most people use the changing room at the other end of the hall, closer to the exercise rooms.

It’s a book. Not just any book but a leather bound journal. I look at the inside cover and at the back to try to find some form of identification but there is none.

It intrigues me. I flick through the journal to try to ascertain its owner which is when I discover… It’s not a journal or a diary. It’s an unfinished novel. I read the first page and the next, and the next until suddenly, I find I’ve read the whole first chapter. It’s drawn me in.