Dearest D,

I begin writing this not knowing what to say, but these words would tumble out of themselves as this pen staggers forward. Here I am, seated at the wooden dining table where I have spent many a rainy afternoon, and there you are, in an opposite time zone, softly stealing my nights when I am soaking and rinsing the sun in my sink. That is what I do when I step into the apartment, after dark and slipping myself out of my shoes, letting my eyes fall halfway- I wet those worn clothes, gather soapsuds and dip them once, twice and again in the running water. The toilet holds itself still, and breathes most quietly and respectfully as I go about my washing.

The air there must feel very different, though perhaps it is so only because we think it in our mind. Look for something there, a job, and stay on if you can. Sometimes this can be easier when it is unplanned for. Then, there will be no expiry dates or ink circles on the wall calendar. There will be no casual waiting for someone who has left to return, only to most definitely, leave again - one departure is enough, and so are the replays in the cogwheels of our memory. Which is worse or which is better - leaving or being left behind? The airport is divided into two sides, the cold and the colder. The massive glass panel that divides these two countries stays the warmest itself, and the panting hands on it bleeds some of the warmth as they perform a final goodbye, waving and then resting on the vulnerably naked yet sturdy surface. I do not mean to sound melancholic or morbid, I am putting this across very matter-of-factly, like how someone would announce to the kitchen that we've run out of eggs or that the water is boiling and the fire should be shut down. There is no need for breaking into dispute, no bubbling of internal turmoil.

I believe that you will take good care of yourself, and enjoy these stolen moments away from our occasionally heartbreaking city.
L you.

There are fortune cookie messages written and wrapped for you, or yous;

1. For the curious geographer in you, the traveling cafe singer.
2. For the woman in you, the serious tea-drinking woman.
3. For the sometimes sad soul, not in you. When there is no nearby Cedele.