Dear You,
How are you doing? I hope everything is okay as you said, although I know you are not really doing well. Sugarcoating your situation doesn't really work for me. It has been months since we have meaningful conversations and I miss that. In case we don't see each other soon, I hope you read this short postcard from Napoli.
This city was totally hot beyond my expectations. The sun shone too bright and scorching what's under the light. Even staying in the shadow didn't save me from sunburn. The sun had no mercy on me, but maybe on you if you were here either. But so far, I love Napoli. Not because of its pizza, rather I found the city covered in green and yellow. Maybe they were proud of their lemon and Napolitana Basil. Yellow is my favourite colour, but you never know that right? No wonder, you never ask for it either. Seeing from your habit, I bet know you know. You always prefer to watch me in silence.
I was lingering around the town for hours and got lost. However, I smelled something familiar. It was the aroma of your clothes, but how come? Was I hallucinating? Ah, thank God I wasn't. When the scent of fresh linen carried by the Sunday breeze during summer greeting my nose, it means I was lost in Napoli. Since when the last time I've smelled your fresh clothes? Probably in ages, I don't know. I've lost count of it. I miss you.
This postcard supposed to be shorter but I have a feeling you want extra spoilers. That's all I want to say right now. I hope the wind whispers this message to you.
Sincerely,
DS
