dear adelaide,

i wrote you a letter just the other night. in it i explained the reasoning behind certain events that have recently occurred, as well as my feelings on said instances. my thoughts on the matter are quite precise, yet still without direction. my initial thought was to express this, among other things, to you in person but circumstances have yet to relieve themselves and allow me proper permission to carry this out. i feel you, at the least, deserve an honest, face to face, explanation for my actions. instead i wrote the aforementioned letter. it is my heart, adelaide, poured onto paper by the frail, wounded hands of a man longing for its chance. yet with each passing day, as my want grows stronger my opportunities become more fleeting, though the emotion never fades.

but yet i still have the note. it is heavy with love. it is all i have ever wanted to say. i stored it away, in a drawer beneath the clock. i think i will deliver it today. i'll address it to you, adelaide, place a stamp in the corner, and send it on its way. by the time it reaches you i, god willing, will be halfway to the atlantic, on a locomotive bound for the east coast. i've arrangements with a captain there to board a cargo ship destined for the indian ocean. i hope i'm well received.

this is the end for now. i feel there is nothing left to lose. if nothing more, adelaide, remember us as friends. until then...

your friend,
connor mcginn