Getting used to trying to talk less to save money.
There is a wild storm here, a hurricane that is flooding places and chanting wildly in the streets, battering the windows.
How are you?
I hope you are well.
Just looked in the mail and saw your letter.
Excited to read it and write you back.
Hubby humming strains of “Good King Wenceslas.”
I want to decouple.
I’m not living your life and I cannot simultaneously affect it with my thoughts, which is crazy thinking anyway.
Thinking always of you.