August 5, 2014

I was standing on a bookshelf ladder, wiping the dust off one of the higher shelves. I looked at the shelf below to see a magazine that had a woman’s portrait and pencils arranged in the number four.

“I don’t get it” I said to my friend below. “I haven’t talked to my brother in a long time.”

“That’s strange” she replied, “I get a message from him nearly everyday”.

((There was a lot more before this but I forgot most of it))