email me. to death

Hi. We met and talked for ten random minutes. We traded emails, remember? I convinced you we had something in common.

Your intuition told you the digits should remain inaccessible.

Now, months later, I am slow and steady emailing you to death.

This is my fantasy. To know you, with or without your consent. Can you blame me?

Who wouldn’t want to know a girl with such long legs and eyelashes, perfect teeth and intuition?