I read about this communication form back in History. And since nothing else is working…

Well, here goes.

I kind of like this. It feels a little bit more permanent than intermessaging. Like, I can delete messages but I can’t get the ink off of the page. If that makes any sense. And then there’s the sound of the pen scratching, and the smell of the paper, and it all just feels so… real, I guess.

Well, anyways, I’ve been doing fine. Just trying to do things to distract myself. I’ve been trying to grow a garden outside, but all I can seem to grow is weeds. Maybe I just don’t have a green thumb. Or maybe it’s the toxicity of the atmosphere. Ah well. At least there’s barely anybody to pollute it further.

I’ve been trying to visit all the places we went to as kids but obviously there’s no one else.

All the trees in the park are gone. The bubble tea shop was completely flattened. S**t, Owen, everything we had is gone.

Owen, I don’t know why I’m writing this. I’m going to leave this on your grave, and maybe your spirit will rise out of the ground, and maybe you’ll come join me so I’ll have someone so I won’t die alone, Owen, because-

I’ll have you.

This is the way you close letters.

Your best friend, your lover, forever,

The Survivor