correspondence

Pulling open his apartment door, he let out an involuntary shout when something was quite literally thrust into his chest hard enough to have him almost tip backwards. He managed to right himself while keeping hold of what had been shoved at him and looked up in time to see his neighbour striding back towards his apartment. “You’re going to fucking kill yourself.” His door slammed. Stiles blinked at the other man’s door, utterly confused, and looked down at what he was holding. It was a plastic bag, full of what felt like tupperware, which made no sense to Stiles because when had his neighbour broken into his house to steal his tupperware? (SNYE - January 11th - Neighbours)

The first thing [Newton] does when he gets to his office, smarting from the needle and high on endorphins, is email the eccentric mathematician in Cambridge, the other Cambridge a non-creature-infested ocean away, with whom he’d been corresponding for a while and whom his colleagues have begun to call Newt’s Internet Boyfriend. Hermann, Newton types, tell me you’ve crawled out from under your rock for long enough to realize your disdain for monster movies is now scientifically invalid. Please don’t call me that, Gottlieb writes back. I’m already working on it.

Kara finds herself missing her former boss, and puts pen to paper. Exceeding Kara's wildest hopes, Cat writes back. So begins a correspondence that lets a lot of unaddressed issues be talked out. Does absence make the heart grow fonder? (Yes, yes it does.)

In concluding, you are telling me that you would like to make this story faithful, I am telling you exactly what I feel, and somehow I think what we are saying is the same. That is a foolproof ending sentence. Love (and that is repetition, which is important for dull readers), Alex