
The days went by, all humdrum with the last and the next almost exactly the same. The nights were fleeting, yet, amidst the fleeting consistence, my mind was static, maybe a delusion that somewhere during this menace you would one day think of me, since it hadn't seemed to be the case, I started scribbling on paper again.
"Dear You",
Its been forever, how are you holding out? Do you have enough of the right things? I hear that your providence has been named the epicenter of the plague, are you okay?
This one reeks of desperation, it'll go where the last one went - nowhere.
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