Einar is typing some more. When Einar types, it takes a long time, because Einar types like an old fucking man holding a baby in one arm and his smartphone in the other.]
Dear Brynhilde,
I don't mean to accuse you.
[becaUSE HE FUCKING KNOWS IT WAS YOU, BRYN.]
I'm sorry. Largely, what I truly want to know is that you are safe, from any sort of disaster like the ones you mentioned. And that you and your companions are not also on fire.
no subject
Einar is backspacing.
Einar is typing some more. When Einar types, it takes a long time, because Einar types like an old fucking man holding a baby in one arm and his smartphone in the other.]
Dear Brynhilde,
I don't mean to accuse you.
[becaUSE HE FUCKING KNOWS IT WAS YOU, BRYN.]
I'm sorry. Largely, what I truly want to know is that you are safe, from any sort of disaster like the ones you mentioned. And that you and your companions are not also on fire.
Your brother,
Einar