Everyone knew that it was unstable, apart from Alice. Perhaps it was because she couldn't understand the tone, or even didn't particularly want to read between the lines, but normally she was red-hot when it comes to an accusation. Ripped by the fear of the tear. "So you don't want to see me then?"
Perhaps Richard's address was off, or his meaning was lost in the delivery, but what was certain, is the fact that she just didn't get it. i mean Rich has his way of putting his selfish stamp on things, but really what was clear is the fact he didn't want to be there in person.
Alice clung to it as if it was all she had, she felt so alone yet didn't see the elation in his communication after hardly being in touch all weekend. He was away. She sat on the sofa, black leather unforgiving, waiting for his touch, she sighed.
She walked to the kitchen, she opened the drawer and ran her hand from left to right of the cutlery tray, bypassing the rolling pin she uses to bake the cakes for the teatime Tuesday gathering of the whole group of friends, who instead were with their partners. She grasps the plastic handle and draws it from its sheath at the furthest side of the drawer. She saw his charming face in the long thin blade, that distorted his imaginary content smile to a loving imaginary grin. she frantically thrust the blade and tore and dashed so violently delicate, and forced her hand inside and grasped. with an agonizing pant and adrenaline she unfolded the creases and began to read.
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