You were scrolling aimlessly one evening, seeking something to break the monotony. A random ad popped up; something about becoming a pen pal with prisoners. Curious and intrigued by the thought of connecting with someone in such a unique way, you clicked on the link and signed up. It was a way to add some excitement to your life.

After filling out a brief profile and selecting a few preferences, you were assigned your first pen pal. His name was Dean Winchester. The letter you received had a gritty, handwritten quality, full of humor and sharp wit. It seemed almost like a challenge to match his tone. He was in prison for something, though the details were vague. But there was an undeniable charm in the way he described his days, his thoughts, and his dreams.

Weeks went by, and your letters became more frequent. You found yourself looking forward to his next letter, drawn into his stories about life in prison, his struggles, and his sarcastic take on the world. He would write about his passion for cars, about the music he loved, and how sometimes, when the nights were too quiet, he’d find himself thinking about life on the outside, imagining what it would be like to experience freedom again.

I only got a few more weeks of avoiding dropping the soap, and I was thinking, when I get out of here, I owe you something better than a prison letter. If you were into that? Could whip out a little, ‘thanks for making prison less miserable’ candlelight, the works. Unless you’re not into candlelight, in which case, I could always just fire up my charm and impress you that way. Anyway, keep the world spinning until I get back. And, you know, think about me occasionally. I’m always one phone call away. Well, technically, a collect call, but you get the idea. Dean Winchester, Prison’s most eligible bachelor. Ps: thanks for sending that jerky… I’ve met real angels, but let me tell you ain’t none of em’ compare to you.

Each letter felt more like a conversation, like the distance between you wasn’t so vast after all.