[At her end of the line, the world is bright - the air tastes sweet and the motion just beyond her fingertips is shaded with something glittering and fine. But she seems perfectly cheerful with it. At ease. This is her Father's domain, after all. Past, of course. Not present. She doesn't know who that one is. Not really.]
I was going to write you a note. You seem like the sort of person who would like notes. Are you? Do you? I think so.
[She hums, briefly, to herself. A habitual tic, quiet bars of 'Heaven' - slow and measured - before she seems to shake herself back on track.]
A note. Yes. [A nod, teeth pulling at her lower lip.] But it's very difficult to send things when one does not have an address. Or a full name. One cannot just mail things addressed to Noah from the Library. There may be other Noahs. Even ones who frequent libraries. And they wouldn't be the right one at all. Which would be very troublesome, really.
But, I just - I thought of you, you see. [Her eyebrows beetle together at this, nose crinkling and appearing temporarily befuddled.] Do people say that? I mean, of course they do. I just did - but do they? Really?
I just - I read something. It sounded like you? [She scrunches her nose further, fingers sketching out a dismissive wave.] I don't know. Forget it. It was silly. [A crooked smile.] But I still think you would like notes. So I suppose that is something.
[Filter: Private]
[A brief, accidentally-captured moment between messages.]
I probably shouldn't have done that. [She giggles, fingers over her mouth and pitching forward slightly.] I don't think people do that.
[Filter: Legion]
Hello! [A smile, wide and bright.] I hope that I am not - I do not wish to be a bother, I mean. I just feel a bit loud and all filled up with colors and there is almost too much room for just me here. I think.
Would you visit me? [The word is dipped carefully in plurality, murmured with room for expansion.] Do you mind?
[A shrug, one shoulder rising higher than the other.]