Free yourself within a notebook then send me all your thoughts.
Write down your desires, your fantasies, your dreams.
On your marks, set, go! Do not stop.
Do not get distracted, I am hungry for it all.
This ability to write comes from a time of cheap letters, where words cost little but meant so much.
Secret lemon juice messages revealed in tongues of fire.
Now we can afford the letters but not the stamp.
Oh, for a real letter, with a real stamp. I would frame your stamp in gold.
Follow me down the blackened shute into darkness, into folklore.
Let’s start a new history.
It’s a smoking gun, cordite and drifting trails. Tales.
Stand well back and read the smoke signal. Our tongues will flame with gossip.
This is my secret notebook to you.
There are no secrets: I am an open book.
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