I realize it's been a while since this was posted, but I just started something I'm really having trouble with the beginning and logistics of, so I figured I'd throw it out there.

We traveled to a world where Morse code became our own personal language. "I suppose this is good," he said in dots and dashes, "since I could never find the right words to tell you how beautiful you are." So I suppose this is good. But I wish I could hear him say my name again.