Rooms

[A note left for each, individually, on torn paper, but in careful penmanship, stuck for Peggy under her door, and for Sam, just on the refrigerator by the ancient postcard collection. If they try to write to him, there is no response.]

Off for a few days. No journal. Call if you need me.

Your friend,
Steve Rog

Who: Preston R & Saint R
What: These two have never managed a successful date.
When: Weekend.
Warnings?: Unlikely.
Status: Incomplete.

( The camera was still sat on the table, he had empty pockets and no reassuring counter-weight of a camera strap around neck or wrist )

According to the calendar it's something called Father's Day and I looked it up and...well... Happy Father's Day.

[Late at night from the house in Port Royal, after being back a few days, and with a stack of modern books at her elbow. She starts this a few times, puts it down, keeps reading, then returns to it. Finally, after enough false starts to go through two tapers.]

[Locked to Bruce W]
Have you read Anne Sexton?

Happy not-Father's Day.

[Spooky]

How goes the search for all that is painfully dying?

[Wren M]

[As Pelt anon.]

Did you make it home safely?

[Gwen S]

You never write me anymore.