The 27th day of September 2023 - supplement a

Madame,

I have returned from my travels to The Greyest Place. Necessary though it was, it was a town without a heart or personality to speak of. I did enjoy the company of some fresh faces.

I confess myself concerned as the days pass, that I diminish in your memory and your affections. Each day seems that of a never-settling concoction of doubt, fear, longing and a profound absence. I have caught myself on numerous occasions rereading your messages and replaying our conversations over and over. My overthinking betrays me as usual.

I’m at a loss as to the whereabouts of our couple. I can only assume wherever they are they are in each other’s arms and oblivious to all other concerns. What a feeling to have. I’m thinking of them so often, and increasingly over the last couple of days.

To hell with what’s proper, every day that passes without you is an empty disappointment. Each new experience not shared with you is hollow. Be warned when I see you next I will want to hold you to me and never let you go.

In need great need of speaking to you.

Yours, A.