Flora/Jack Parchment

I can't decide which I want more: you or my coffee.

are you safe

Yes.

I'm coming back to you tomorrow.

good

<3

(The following is shakily penned, as if written against the trunk of a tree)

Sooooooooo, I think I just met an actual ghost?

Tell you about it when I get back.

p.s. do ghosts give out business cards????????

(Jack's response is equally as wobbly, as if from bed)

Let me consult my Journal Of Ghosts I Have Met.

No, I don't think they do.

Whatever you've taken, can I have some?

Oh so now you want to try drugs? Geeze, it's like you're an entirely different person for having come back from the dead.

What can I say? I have gained a new perspective.

You know.

Of being fucking dead.

You're gonna to LOVE me on drugs.

(This message arrives as late afternoon dips towards dusk).

You're late. Everything OK at the bar?

(Two hours later).

Flora?

(Another hour later).

Whatever I did to piss you off this time, I can only make it up to you if you're here.