[TRANSCRIPT]

[click, static]

Hey Birdie.  
I’m still…

[click, static]

I can’t believe we talked yesterday. It doesn’t feel real, it happened so fast and it still doesn’t feel real. But it is. It is real. You’re real. You’re real and you can hear me and I know that we’ve been communicating for months now but I didn’t realize just how different it would feel to have you responding in real time to me. 

Is it a sort of cumbersome way to have a conversation? Yeah, maybe. But it’s still the most scintillating interaction I’ve had in years. 

The same message came up a little while after you signed off—which was pretty abrupt by the way. Th, 9AM, Thursday 9AM. It broadcast for a little while and I’m not sure if its a holdover or you saying that you want to talk again next week? I hope it’s that. Either way, I’ll be sitting by the radio waiting. 

Just like you’re a date that has no interest in me.  

You said you don’t want me to know you. But I—I want you to reconsider, Birdie. I’m not going to—to hurt you, I’m not going to judge you, I’m not going to ask too much of you. Or, at least, I don’t think I will.  I’ll try not to. 

I know what it’s like to have something that you want to hide. Or to want to hide from the world completely. I’ve felt that—I’ve felt that for most of the last six years. And I know what it’s like to not be able to hide. I couldn’t, after everything that happened, because Harry was there. And I could never hide from her. 

But I think even hiding would’ve gotten tiring after a while. Aren’t you tired?

[click, static]

[beeps]

.- -... .. --. .- .. .-..

Abigail

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