Call Me By Your Name... and I'll Call You By Mine,
References aside, today was not the day, unfortunately. There's nothing like a pop quiz and a missing beau in action to throw your attempts at a romantic declaration out the window, but I digress. As for the a/s/l bashing... I'm hurt. Some of us still like a blast to the past – you can't say you've never wanted to pull a Ferris Bueller, or become friends with a disbarred scientist decades older than yourself. Have some respect for the simpler times we missed out on. Classics are classics for a reason.
And maple trees?
That must've been picturesque, though you don't read as the type of person to enjoy scenery. Maybe you'll prove me wrong the more we get to know each other.
I'm writing this on my way to gym, and have already bumped into four people in the hallway in my distraction to get this note done. Hope you can forgive the sloppy writing.
Thought of the day: If Duck, Duck, Goose isn't your game of play, then what is? I'm running low on post-it-notes so maybe a specific location would benefit the both of us. Can I suggest the vending machine on the fourth floor? Tons of traffic so no risk in picking each other out. Just some food for thought.
With Nostalgia,
Duck.
P.S. Duck.
P.P.S. Goose?
YOU ARE READING
YOUR ONE LAST LINE |✔️|
Short Story*Watty's Shorts Winner, 2020* While cleaning out empty lockers during detention, North Kingsley comes across a battered textbook filled with off-beat and personal messages written in awful handwriting. On a whim he writes them a message back. Days...
