a craving

for a handwritten note.

The internet can communicate however way it wants, but I want to see a scroll, a handwritten scribble of a few lines asking me “how are you?”, perhaps maybe something a little less impersonal. To find out really, to stop for a minute to spell care and thought. To stop life’s intense hurtling speed for just a few precious valuable moments to genuinely reach out. To receive a handwritten note is priceless in its simplicity and can speak volumes than what a quick perky hi on chat or phone can ever deliver. It’s the kind that spreads a subtle flush, like the campfire that we cozy to on a cold fall night.

The time it takes to spell those out, slowly, clearly and without a shiver and a mistake. One never knows how spellings go these days, especially when the now untrained finger’s forced to hold that pencil and force it to do what it did ages ago.

The way the Y would swirl and curve up to join the O, the repeated peaking of the W, the A. How do you write your A? Do you write the upper case/capital letter A like so, or do you write a very large small/lower case A and call it upper case.

I do. ..and call me narcissist, but I love that A. Like so.

This tag came out of a lesser yearn.

Today it rises high. Like a simmering tempest, one that can reach deep within, touch the cells, bones and the marrow, wake them up to all cry in scatters and ultimately form a crescendo. The level at which it rises, there is just one sound. The sound of the cry so in tune that all I hear is a deep buzz.

Yes, it would be nice to stop that buzzing I hear.

I crave for a handwritten note – a few lines that can mean so much under the powdery lightness of the black graphite.

Can you hear me? Are these squiggles able to convince you enough that you would do this for me? I’ll wait, coz writing with your hand takes time. ..and the perfect word must happen. Any word, frankly, would be perfect if you’d write it. Would you?