Ruth sat at home, a glass of wine in her hand, listening to some music. On the table in front of her lay a blank piece of paper. Lying next to it a cheap ballpoint pen. She looked across the room, at nothing in particular and wondered where to start.
Fears, Regrets, Hopes.
Harry sat at home, at his desk, a whiskey in one hand, a fountain pen in the other. He slowly and deliberately put the top back on the pen and placed it down next to his piece of A4 paper. He looked at it. Something smaller would have sufficed.
Regrets – Ruth
Hopes – Ruth
Fears – No Ruth
He went to refill his glass.
Ruth got to the end of the reverse side of the paper and realised she had no more space. She glanced at what she had written.
Fears – Half a page
Regrets – A page and a half
Hopes – A line
She put the pen down, scrumpled the paper into a ball and threw it into the bin.