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February 14, 2021
Gunpowder Valentine

I dreamt about kitties. That's not good.

— How come?

Now I want a kitty.

— We can't have a kitty.

We could have a kitty.

— I'm saying we can't. Kitties don't like me. Actually, kitties don't like you.

Of course they like me, what's there not to like?

— Our landlord doesn't allow animals, you know that.

Why do we live in this building, after all?

— Don't push that button, come on.

We could have a ferret.

— A ferret is not a kitty.

You do have a point.

— We could indeed have a puppy.

The landlord doesn't like animals in the building.

— We both like puppies, and puppies like both of us.

How are we supposed to hide a puppy from the landlord? When we leave on the afternoon and it starts crying all over?

— You didn't think that through with the kitty?

...Not really. Look, it's Valentine's.

Mikhail Vasilyev @ Unsplash

She was staring at the calendar on the wall.

— You only noticed that now?

As if we care about Valentine's.

— Don't bunch me up with you.

He hands her a present wrapped in blue paper.

You got me a Valentine's gift?

— Well I figured, since we both don't have valentines...

Since we're both stuck, you mean. But come on, I didn't get you anything.

— So what's that awesome customized pen that I found by my night stand?

Oh, that? You're welcome.

— Idiot. I'm off.

See you.

He leaves. She opens the present and right afterwards sends him text messages.

"Hey, you got me a stuffed kitty!"

"That's so cute of you, and admirably telephatic, by the way."

"Love you, just so you're wondering."

"I know. Idiot."

Sincerely,
Júlia P. V. Souza

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