A compilation of letters from Will to Mike. About half are unsent drafts that are stuffed into the back of multiple sketchbooks. The pile keeps building and eventually becomes a lump in the book. He transfers some to underneath a box of paints on his desk.
Unsent
Mike,
You’re thousands of miles away, but I can’t stop thinking about you. I’ve been trying to make friends, but nobody here compares to the party. I can’t find anybody that really likes the same things as me. You’ve been on my mind a lot. Actually, I started a painting with you in it. Of course, the rest of the party is there. It can be a gift when you get here in the Spring. I can’t wait.
Love,
Will
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