Dear Sumiko,

I apologize in advance if you should feel that this email follows really quite soon after my previous one. The thing is, Sumiko, I would be a fool if I believed love to be an exact science … and yet, and yet, I couldn’t get that infamous three-day rule out of my head. I thought you might be biding your time, waiting to get in touch today. The third fateful day, isn’t it? But since the day is pretty much over and I have not heard from you, I thought I would check in just to make sure you’ve picked up my message. If you have, and you’re unsure what to write, please don’t worry so much. It doesn’t matter. I just want to get to know you better.

In the glimpses I’ve caught of you, you have always struck me as one of those rare creatures who will think twice or more before they choose to express a thought. In the images I have of you, you rarely speak. Swiping in or out of the doors of our building, sitting on a bench, unwrapping your little square sandwich and lifting each neat quarter to your sweet little mouth: you always keep your eyes trained on the object you are holding. Your little sandwich. I’ve never seen you linger outside of work, smoking with colleagues. Though many times I have seen you smoke alone, lighting your roll-up laboriously with your back against the wall. Why do you choose to smoke in such a windy spot? Sumiko, all I wanted to say is you don’t have to be scared. I want to reassure you. You can talk to me.

Your Cloud

From: [email protected]

Sent: 21 January 2012 01:10

To: [email protected]

Subject: Sorry