Chapter 82
Chapter Eighty-Two
Private Message | EchoZone Internal Chat
From: DeadStrings
Subject: When you say out of town, you mean . . .
Hey,
Saw your message about going out of town, but it got me wondering . . . what’s in town? I mean, we’ve been talking for weeks, months even, and somehow, we’ve never mentioned where we are. You could be in Montreal or Madrid or down the street, and I wouldn’t know.
Which, don’t get me wrong—I respect the mystery. God knows I haven’t exactly been handing out coordinates either. But sometimes I think about it. Where do you write from? What it looks like when you’re typing to me. What does the air smell like on your side of the screen?
I guess it’d just be nice to know if we’re in the same time zone, or if I’m always waking you up with these late messages.
Of course, you don’t have to answer. I just miss you a little more when I don’t know where you are.
Anyway, I hope your trip was uneventful in all the best ways. Sometimes peace is underrated.
Otis and I had a quiet day. He’s taken to sleeping under the desk while I write messages to you—which I’m pretending means he approves.
Tomorrow’s my GED exam, so fingers crossed my brain cooperates.
The week after that, we’re volunteering at a summer camp.
I’m supposed to be teaching kids how to play guitar.
Small problem: I haven’t picked up mine in weeks.
So . . . there’s a very real chance I’m going to get upstaged by a ten-year-old.
Wish me luck. Or send me a chord chart. Or both.
Song of the Day:
“Learning to Fly” —Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers
Because that’s what this feels like. Trying. Failing. Getting back up. Catching a bit of wind, even if you’re not sure where you’ll land.
Talk soon?