Riya

I was on the cusp of sleep, when my phone beeped. Tapping the app which the beep belonged to, I opened the message from the unfamiliar sender.

She had typed:

Hi. I like your poetry. Would you like to look at my work? If you don’t mind sir? 

I replied:

Hello. Many thanks, I’m pleased you like. Thanks for the feedback. Yes, I’ll take a look. Also, please call me Lee. 

My phone beeped again.

She had typed:

Please call me Riya. Hope you like my work.

That was four years ago. I read her work that night, and still read her today. Our friendship and respect grew over time, as did our comfort with each other. In our beatific peace of understanding, we share our hopes and dreams for the future. Even our secrets and fears. Similar to the nostalgia of pen friends, which is anachronistic in this age of emojis and transient friendships. Approximately 5,000 miles apart, so great a distance, yet we’re so close.