[John]
[Late Monday night, after a couple of weeks of sulky solitude and nigh-on-zilch communication with anyone other than her new kitten, Rose finally pulls her journal out from beneath piles of yarn, prints a filter in slow, careful handwriting, and clears her throat: ]
John, are you busy right now?
... We need to talk.
[She taps her pen anxiously against her nightstand as she waits.]
[/Filter]