My dearest friend Prose,

It is with much sadness that I write today. The dreary weather only adds to my demise. You see, I have come to realize that the opportunity to glide my pen across a page and let its ink slowly spin the story I have to share has died a slow death – like the milkman. You shall no longer receive eloquent letters filled with the beauty of words as they conjure magnificence. I fear, you will have to settle for further correspondence in 140 characters or less. But, please dont be despondent, I beg you.  For it is with delight that I must add, such efficient communications shall surely provide much time to focus on your writing.  I look forward to your charming note soon.


PS Inspired by the epistoral beauty of the letters in The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Society 😉