I think about you.

Dear John,

I know that we don't know each other well but I think you're a really weird kind of guy. You ignore me when I'm walking behind you, you stand next to me but don't acknowledge I'm there, you don't talk to me directly but you keep me within your line of vision. You make me feel strange and you're attractive to me. I think about you a lot. I think about the red string between us and how you've remained in the outskirts of my life for a couple years. I have really vivid dreams about you. We're always sitting in a green chair that I have in my room.

I shouldn't bother following you around town but I bet I will. The beginning of winter is sort of boring and sad. Seeing you out and about is some dull pain I'm after. You can keep me at an arm's length under a lovely grey canopy of clouds. I'll leave a trail of thin seeds and sighs.

Bye,

Joan