Therese stopped her pacing in front of her desk to stop and stare at the half-written letter. This was silly, what was she thinking? Pressing her lips together, she moved forward with the great intent of crumpling up the parchment, but her fingers barely grazed the letter before she faltered again.
Was it silly? What was the worst that could happen? Her eyes rolled to the ceiling, thinking that with
her luck...
She stayed frozen for another beat before being decisive and coming around the desk. Sitting on the edge of her seat (literally!), she grabbed her quill and continued the letter she had been avoiding for some time now.
( Maybe...maybe it was too cold to send a poor owl out! )