shook her confused, muggy head, attempting to stretch her puffy, slit eyes wider and cast the morning fogginess aside in preparation of this unanticipated and intriguing message. The message was only a few brief lines at the top of her screen, which Sienna read and read again a few times over, making sure she hadn’t missed anything out -
“Dear Sienna,
You do not know me, and I do not wish to appear overly bold, but I simply had to message you. I saw the comment you left of the British Poetry Centre page the other day - the Rainer Maria Rilke quote - and was moved to let you know that I admire and share your tastes. Rilke is far too underappreciated in today’s society (the youth don’t know what they’re missing out on!), and it was truly a refreshing joy to see his wonderful work being shared and appreciated - a joy I have you to thank for.
Have you read Rilke’s ‘Letters To A Young Poet’? It is a truly remarkable and moving read, and if you haven’t indulged in its pages so far, then I definitely recommend you do.
Thank you for brightening up my day. I hope this message will be well received.
Regards
Lewis Stowell.”
Sienna was filled with a mixture of increasing smugness and growing bewilderment. In a half-dazed state she clicked the link to this ‘Lewis Stowell’s’ facebook page, keen to learn more about this admirer of her literary inclinations. The warm bubble of pride and imperiousness in her chest grew twice the size as she learnt that her mystery messenger was in fact a nearly middle-aged, proficient, savvy and well-educated English Professor (with a PHD to top it all off). His profile indicated that he taught at a university some hundred miles across the country, specializing in Creative Writing and 18th and 19th century literature. And he was complimenting her on her tastes.
Sienna’s interest was more than peaked, and her skin was almost literally tingling with intrigue. She didn’t want to get too ahead of herself, but if her initial (yet somewhat hastily created) impression was accurate, then she hadn’t met anyone of a similar caliber as this since...well, since Jack. “Not that anyone could ever actually hope of exceeding him, or even coming close for that matter.” Sienna hastily corrected herself, not wanting for one second for it to even seem like she could possibly consider anyone else better than Jack had been. That was part of her whole problem - the fact that nobody actually ever could match up to her lost love.
Ignoring the alluring pull of painful yet cherished memories just this once, Sienna focused her eyes back to the screen in front of her. She toyed with the idea of replying to the message, but decided that was a moment better suited for another time, when she was more composed and had had time to think her words through. Instead, she glanced quickly around herself to make sure that nobody was within eye-shot (not that she needed to - the library was entirely Sienna’s, and she was even fairly sure that the librarian herself was beginning to doze off at her post), before trawling through Lewis Stowell's photos, keen to put a face to the name. But his profile was very similar to her own - minimal people on his ‘friends’ list and as little personal information as possible. Just like her profile, there were no pictures of Lewis himself, like her he had chosen to represent himself through artistic, cultural photos and images (many of which were so majestically framed and beautifully composed, and held such a deep longing and meaning, that Sienna literally found herself breathless with awe) and the phrenic, highbrow groups and pages that he had joined - many of which, Sienna was delighted to find, were groups that she too was a member of.
She couldn’t help but go back and read over his message a few more times, feeling like an excited, blushing
“Dear Sienna,
You do not know me, and I do not wish to appear overly bold, but I simply had to message you. I saw the comment you left of the British Poetry Centre page the other day - the Rainer Maria Rilke quote - and was moved to let you know that I admire and share your tastes. Rilke is far too underappreciated in today’s society (the youth don’t know what they’re missing out on!), and it was truly a refreshing joy to see his wonderful work being shared and appreciated - a joy I have you to thank for.
Have you read Rilke’s ‘Letters To A Young Poet’? It is a truly remarkable and moving read, and if you haven’t indulged in its pages so far, then I definitely recommend you do.
Thank you for brightening up my day. I hope this message will be well received.
Regards
Lewis Stowell.”
Sienna was filled with a mixture of increasing smugness and growing bewilderment. In a half-dazed state she clicked the link to this ‘Lewis Stowell’s’ facebook page, keen to learn more about this admirer of her literary inclinations. The warm bubble of pride and imperiousness in her chest grew twice the size as she learnt that her mystery messenger was in fact a nearly middle-aged, proficient, savvy and well-educated English Professor (with a PHD to top it all off). His profile indicated that he taught at a university some hundred miles across the country, specializing in Creative Writing and 18th and 19th century literature. And he was complimenting her on her tastes.
Sienna’s interest was more than peaked, and her skin was almost literally tingling with intrigue. She didn’t want to get too ahead of herself, but if her initial (yet somewhat hastily created) impression was accurate, then she hadn’t met anyone of a similar caliber as this since...well, since Jack. “Not that anyone could ever actually hope of exceeding him, or even coming close for that matter.” Sienna hastily corrected herself, not wanting for one second for it to even seem like she could possibly consider anyone else better than Jack had been. That was part of her whole problem - the fact that nobody actually ever could match up to her lost love.
Ignoring the alluring pull of painful yet cherished memories just this once, Sienna focused her eyes back to the screen in front of her. She toyed with the idea of replying to the message, but decided that was a moment better suited for another time, when she was more composed and had had time to think her words through. Instead, she glanced quickly around herself to make sure that nobody was within eye-shot (not that she needed to - the library was entirely Sienna’s, and she was even fairly sure that the librarian herself was beginning to doze off at her post), before trawling through Lewis Stowell's photos, keen to put a face to the name. But his profile was very similar to her own - minimal people on his ‘friends’ list and as little personal information as possible. Just like her profile, there were no pictures of Lewis himself, like her he had chosen to represent himself through artistic, cultural photos and images (many of which were so majestically framed and beautifully composed, and held such a deep longing and meaning, that Sienna literally found herself breathless with awe) and the phrenic, highbrow groups and pages that he had joined - many of which, Sienna was delighted to find, were groups that she too was a member of.
She couldn’t help but go back and read over his message a few more times, feeling like an excited, blushing
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