No word from S yet, I guess she's fine. The ones from Carl are still incarcerated in their envelope, a sort of quarantine for the unwanted I guess, a carefully suppressed memory when Chloe calls me from across the wasteland and breaks the spell. We're mostly quiet but knowing she's there is almost enough; her tiny heartbeats like butterfly wings echoing through the wires. I miss her more and more.
"He loves you" she whispers and it sounds like shattered illusions. Il n'y a pas d'orchestre. I ask her about the letter, she says she doesn't know and I believe her. It's a night later and it sits right here in front of me, ready to be opened. I just had to write something first, and maybe I'll tell you about it later or tomorrow or some other day when I'm past the anguish.
Until then, know that I love all of you and that your reading, your commenting and following, your sending me sweet little e-mails and caring when I need it the most is the air I breathe when thunderstorms are outside my window. Thank you ♥