A note for now

So I decided today would be the day I tried my gentle and easy approach on Mr. Zampanó. Since he used to be a writer, I figured writing him a note would be the most appealing method of contact. My letter reads as follows

“Dear Mr. Zampanó, my name is Clarisse McClellan, I was 17 years old when I passed away and choose to spend my afterlife hearing the stories of others who lived colorful, adventurous lives. Where I came from, we weren’t allowed to have books, so we always told oral stories to entertain ourselves. My uncle told the best stories of all. His secret? He has a brilliant mind and committed his favorite books to memory. Anyways, I heard you were a writer once, and since you found the inspiration to put pen to paper you must have had an interesting topic to write about. If at all possible, I was wondering if we could meet up sometime in the near future and talk about your work? The courtyard works fine as a meeting place for me. Sincerely, Clarisse McClellan.”

-I stuck the note on the door using a single piece of scotch tape, took a step back to admire my work, and went on my way towards the diner for breakfast. Now all we do is wait… -Clarisse McClellan