Jane what are you writing? You realise that it is unlikely your work will be published now. What with the circumstances being that we are… well dead.
Tom, you know I write for myself, not others.
Well yes but my dear darling love of my life would you please stop writing wearing my shirts – wearing just my shirt.
It is not my fault that your clothing is so loose and unrestraining. Besides I feel it helps me echo the passion we share into my writing.
I stumbled short at that, my breath hitching as I watched her lips curve into her sensuous smile. My love I have one question. Holding the pen above my heart. Do you know of the space I wrote your name?