Any diary conjures up a feeling of secrecy, of private thoughts of life experiences that are committed to the pages of a journal for a specific purpose which is close to the writer's heart. I accidentally lay my hands on Violette's diary to discover that it was a World War I heirloom and not the intimate thoughts of a young girl. In fact it is the testament of Violette's friends as they expressed their heartfelt well-wishes to her by committing them into her diary of friendship memories spanning fifteen years, from 1915 to 1930. My fortuitous discovery of Violette's tomb in the local cemetery led me to wish to reproduce the diary while attempting to elicit the feelings and emotions of such a remote and yet contemporary period of events which sadly resonate in 21st century Europe.
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