>>4577670A Letter to my Dearest Friend,
Hello. I hate to tell you that, but I noticed that it's not the same when I'm around you anymore. Your grand ideas, your creative thinking that always lead to great ideas or incredible adventures, where are they today? Did you leave them at our old house's porch when we left because Clara and Amelia died? You know it's not your fault. We know it's not our fault. What happened was all part of God's Great Plan. Speaking of which, I have been thinking: where are you when I think? Where am I when you think? All days pass and all days are the same because all days end with sleep. Sleep is where I meet you now. My good, my excellent friend. Is this all a dream? Sometimes I feel like it is, in the same way gravity feels like a dream, a bad dream, from which black birds at the seahouse have woken up. I want to close my eyes for the last time and let my spirit explode to Clara and Amelia, to you, to God. Tonight gravity will be the dream I wake up from, from the top of our old house's roof. See you soon,
Your friend,
Matthias
