Matching infinity Friends tattoos on feet

The bells at Caddon Bridge rang the wrong hour again this morning, so I took it as a sign I should finally write properly rather than leave notes pinned to the mill door. Your father says the northern road is shut until the thaw, which means this letter will sit in the post office at Hollin until someone is paid to carry it. Pay them the extra copper. You were always the one who counted coppers.

I have been thinking about the afternoon we drew the loop on the back of the tithe ledger. You said a line that curls back on itself is only a line that hasn't decided where to go, and I said a line that comes back to its own beginning has decided already. We argued until the candle guttered. Then you took the pen and wrote FRIENDS along the curve, the letters leaning like boats in a gale, and the ink ran into the loop so that neither word nor circle could be pulled apart.

The mayor's men came through on Tuesday asking which of us had signed the petition against the guild. I told them I could not read my own handwriting after dark, which is true, and they left. Keep your head down in the salt works. When you come back, the loop will still be on the ledger, and I will have kept the page flat under the good inkwell so the ink does not crack.

Yours in the same unending road, Maud