An histoire?
Now I’ve written this, and I’m not sure I should send it. Mind you, it’s not a critique of my deathless prose I’m looking for, though I’m sure it could use that, too. I just want to know your thoughts re: love letters like this one in general.
My thoughts. In general. My generic thoughts. She wants.
For your eyes only, vous comprends? Merci beaucoup, mon charmant professeur.
ab
Having resisted for all of five seconds, I opened the attachment.
The Boy Two Desks Over
A hazy humid September night in a city where all that surrounds her is strange, the sky over her head smeared with what she at first takes to be the Milky Way, but is in fact New York City smog.
She’s late for class. Fiction writing: what she has dreamed of doing now for so many years, and why she’s come to
