I will write, but not yet, for I am quite busy. I fear that once my pen hits the paper, it will never stop, I can assure you, I will be here for days. Sitting at my wonderful desk, writing all sorts of nonsense. Silly experiences, or strange events. Nothing very important, to the average person, but yet you find it amusing, somehow.

Never really understand you. If someone asked me to describe you, I'd say "indescribable". Not with a negative connotation, of course. But it's good to be "indescribable". Most people are so simple and plain that you can read through them, before they even give you their dull biography.

I've always dreamed of being an interesting person to talk to. (Now if I'm boring you, than I'm clearly not as great as you are. For when you speak all eyes are on you. No one's gazing around, trying to keep themselves awake).

Every word that you pronounce, every sentence that you so eloquently form, has some unusual ring to it. Something that grabs the audience's attention.

And when you pause to breathe, everyone pauses to breathe and awaits your next possible phrase.

I must go now, for you must be sleeping, by now, for quite some time. (I did warn you that my pen never stops, and I can promise you it won't. The ink is never-ending).

So good night, my dearest, and enjoy the South of France.


Yours, Affectionately,
Isabella Charlebronne