The Story Of Our Lives Continued

The man took out his pen again and tried to write her a letter that would do more than make her read it twice.

Wrote down a few sentences but didn’t like them because they sounded ridiculous so he tore up the paper and went through the same act three more times.

Tried going a different direction by using music and wondered if that was ridiculous too.

He wanted to trust his gut and deny it simultaneously.

It was dangerous to believe and painful not to so he looked for a way to break the impasse between heart and head and searched for a Magic 8 Ball.

Surely such a thing would provide the information he needed and the support he required to make things move in the right direction.

Now all he needed to do was find the damn ball or move to a cave from which he would periodically emerge to send messages via smoke signal or carrier pigeon.

Or alternatively he thought about writing every single thought and feeling he had upon a letter which would be placed in a bottle and tossed in the ocean.

If she somehow found that bottle it would be proof of destiny.

It wasn’t as effective as reaching out directly but it involved less risk and in some ways more romanticism or stupidity, kind of depended on what side of the fence you stood upon. 🙂

Good times for all, good times.

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