Maybe she was just jumpy. A few minutes passed; a few more sentences on the page in front of her. Words looked so much more beautiful on the screen, f...r a blank document was about the saddest thing she could think of. There it was again, that feeling, overwhelmingly powerful. Cautiously, Clarissa got up off her bed. She crept into her bathroom, flipping on the smaller mood light. As she passed her open closet door, she felt hands. A scream started in her throat, but before it could come out one. I thanked God… It’s been four years since then, and you know I know it’s time to start begging again. But Ian, I don’t think it will help. The coffee is getting cold like it always does when I’m typing away at my computer. You never seem to mind though, wrapped up in your own thoughts as you ask, ‘Want another cup?’ How different we are and how quiet the same. Your detachment almost complimentary to mine, even after all these years. Should we call it love? Why not? Yes, you always have a funny. More

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