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Challenge of the Week CCXXIV
You've checked out, had enough, are unplugging for a year, and heading off into a nice place in the woods with enough supplies to write the novel you've always wanted to, and to be alone. You've decided to email yourself a paragraph to copy/paste for all the texts you're about to send to your people before you drive off. What do you say? 25 dollars to the top recluse. Winner will be judged by likes.
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Mavia
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My Dear Loxosceles

Beloved,

I cannot tell you how difficult this decision is-- to be so far from you who are so close. Know that you are with me in heart and thought. I need time, a time to be with my ghosts, to make things right with the inner demons so that I can understand and fathom those who mean the most, and who comprise our Reality, inside out. And be assured I will write. I will write about it first account, and second. You'll know the immediate impression and the reflection. I'll make my recitations before the sun-sets and in the steam of 365 cups of Oolong (tea).

I will have my phone with me, and my tablet of course, and an iron will so clad that I will only use these for our output. It will help me feel... connected to you. I won't call, or internet, or surf our web. You encouraged me to this odd Disconnect, and this is the compromise I will make. We had an agree-ment, before the falling out of step that has me hiking up the mountain to stand upon the shoulders of greater men than myself-- so Confucian. No, my Love does not falter, I am only searching for the sanctum inside myself in which to shelter the most ephemeral parts of a Life to which you are parted.

And when the lonely moments come, and they will, let's not forget that it was you who stepped away, who "made way," for me. How can I thank you? Like one, temporarily jailed, I will call out to you from beside my cell and talk to you as if it were a matter of dialing in... like Medicine men of old, I know you would want to check on me internally. I am ok, I suppose. I will be O.K. now that I have made my decision; I am leaving for the remedy you suggested, a journey of soul salvation while the rest of the world is sleeping.

If you could, I know you would, hack into my soul and listen to all there was to hear -- hidden frequencies therein. One day, we will return. Disparate, on the same page, reading the tally marks of thoughts and the feelings between the lines that didn't cross. We'll be Holy. Changed. Worlds away. Because that is what the collective soul wanted. To travel: within.

Signed in kind with Blood,

M.

ps. Thank you for the Carrier Pigeons!

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