Blackout #71

Yesterday is not a happy memory.

Blackout #70

They will never know why.

It was alive although no better than an imprint.

The anchor lowered holding the heart of midnight.

I didn't recognize her and didn't know how to answer without lying.

"You're married?"/ A nod/ "Does your wife know?"/ "Of course not." he laughed/ She waited for more, but it didn't come.

She said "I have forgotten you it was a mistake".

Unlike other letters this one had the feel of a living thing and it frightened her.

I'm sorry. Can you believe it? But you have to, have to. Please.

They were together but growing tension left them nothing.