Edward was sitting at the next desk, his feet propped up on a chair, concentrating on assembling a paper airplane that he intended to launch at Maria. His face was lit up with a silly smile that betrayed joyful anticipation. When she caught the plane, the imp was waiting impatiently for her to read the letter that was hidden in the plane.

"Maria, my dear,

How I suffer not to see your face! I feel an emptiness in my soul equal to the emptiness in my arms when I can't hold you.

In my thoughts, you are firmly established in the cave of my heart. Your beauty knows no bounds — it can light up even the most secret corners of my being.

Yesterday I was at the dump, and there, in a pile of junk, I suddenly imagined what you look like. Your body, naked down to your underwear, or even, God, your underwear, left me speechless! It was as if the stars had fallen from the sky onto my hands.

Maria, can't we meet on this island? There I'll show you how much I love you. I don't want the world to ruin our feelings. No! There, in this non-quarantine world, I will kiss every inch of your body as if it is your last hope for happiness.

I don't want to be an inventor looking for spare parts. I want to be an inventor who creates our world, our paradise.

My love, I'm waiting for you at the dump on Saturday at 3 o'clock. I can't wait any longer!

With love,

Edward"

Edward wagged his ponytail nervously and twirled his hair around his arm, watching intently as his wife sat across from him, engrossed in reading a note. His heart was pounding as she turned her gaze to him, and he resisted the urge to run to her and snatch the note out of her hand to get her attention.