My Future Writing Space
Hey “Man I Marry and Love of My Life,” when you read this – I need you to build me this. Yes, this.
It’s like a greenhouse, but with so much more! I want plants and leaves, maybe some stray birds and some dirt, the smell of earth and air and wood and maybe fire (in the form of a woodstove for warmth, perhaps. YES!) and an ancient worn behemoth of a desk where, when the weather’s right, I go to scribble my words onto paper, or clack the keys of my laptop, all while waiting for you to get home so I can ask you how your day was, and then ravage you as recompense every afternoon for having built me this space.
What a lucky man you’ll be. And of course, how lucky I will be to have this temple in which to pray to the violently demanding gods of the pen.
And afternoon tea.
Love and kisses!