Letter and Reply 15
Wednesday, October 29th and Thursday, October 30th
Letter and Reply 15
Delivered at 2:26 pm, Wednesday, October 29th.
Dear Billy,
Fall is lovely and everything, but I really wish it wouldn’t have come this year. It’s rained so much; I’m swearing it’s a monsoon. Whoever’s responsible for this will be very sorry when we’re all washed away. I can’t even step outside! At least, I don’t want to. All I want to do is stay in, warm and huddled up with a batch of your letters.
Thanks for the sympathy about work, Billy. I wouldn’t say that my work is back-breaking, necessarily. Perhaps I’m just a big complainer. Or I’m just realizing the temptation to stay home and think about nothing but you is excruciating. I could gripe about that, too. But I won’t. As well as I can, I will do my best to get you a letter every other day, as scheduled.
So, your cats are just natural-born killers, hey? Let’s hope they don’t produce any more offspring. You might wind up with a regular cat mafia within your home. Then you might get suspected of being an accomplice in whatever murders they decide to commit. They’ll probably go for Dom first. During the night. I suggest you put up gates around his room. Electric ones.
And I’m expected to get to know these criminals? Will I end up with a scar on my head for it?
Oh, yes, I do own the night. And, though I’m not usually open to sharing it, I think I’ll make an exception in your case. In fact, come over now. I want to show you all about it.
I think for our first road trip we should make a campout-excursion for the beach. Ah yes, sand, wind, and s’mores. (But mostly s’mores. And lots of chocolate).
When we meet, remind me to give you a grand hug. I wish I could do it now. I feel so sorry about your parents. Why you decided to tell me about them is still lost to me…but I’m glad you did, in a way. I can know you a little further than others. I’ll keep every word inside, and never let one pass my lips.
Ah, so you are a puddle-jumping master? I think we’ll have to have a match someday. I’m not too shoddy myself. I bet you anything you’ll be drenched by the end, sweetheart.
I bet I could pester a guitar session out of you. Or perhaps I’d have to resolve myself to using other methods… (I’m now feeling decidedly devious). I’m a merciless tickler, you know.
We really should have a white Christmas. It’s been a while since I’ve even seen one. Perhaps I’ll just have to buy you one and wrap it up with a bow.
I think I’ll make a point to get into your car now. And take you with me.
Well, I’m glad my letters were Billy-approved. All of those poor admirers... I feel sorry for them. They should really try harder; I quite think you’re worth it. As for the letter museum...I think you should start one. Really, people would come for the novelty, you know. Silly thing.
My non-date was lovely. I enjoyed it very much. Everything about it was just sort of … spontaneous. Though I think I could have gone rock-counting with you and it would have been fifteen and a half times better. Or more.
Thankyouthankyouthankyou… Hot fudge sundae sounds delicious. I’m almost tempted to go out for one now, but I don’t think it would quite live up to yours. And the shops don’t make it with cookies and cream.
You’re hired.
Billy, you are adorable. You know I think about you all the time. It’s a wonder why we can’t communicate with each other through our daydreams.
I’ve been so busy these past couple days, I nearly forgot what it was like to just sit back and feel wonderful. You make me feel so at ease. I want to read everything you have to say, all at once. Each word would melt the rough edges of every day. Though, I wouldn’t mind just having you either.
I imagine you are very sweet. Has anyone ever told you? Perhaps I should ask some of your former companions, hey? I think they would tell me very lovely things about you, Billy. I know I would. Though I don’t prefer the title of “former companion.” And I don’t suppose I ever will.
Take care. Try not to let the rain get you. It’s tricky, but I can’t have you getting washed away.
Your Present Companion,
MS
Delivered at 5:02 pm, Thursday, October 30th
Dear MS,
I agree, I wish we could have just skipped over fall and gone straight to winter. Where rain turns into snow. If we're lucky. If we're not, we get slush. But at least it would be winter.
I promise I won't let my cats eat you. Or harm you in any way. One scratch on you, they're out in the cold. For a bit, at least.
Ha, a very nice invitation you've offered, and it would be carried out instantly if I knew where you lived.
You're a chocolate lover? I'll file that away in my database of important things to remember.
You want to bet on who will win a puddle-jumping contest (I don't even know if there is such a thing; I just made that up)? We'll see who's all wet in the end.
I'm not ticklish at all. Noooope. Not one bit. Uh-uh.
Rock counting? Don't knock it 'till you try it. It can be quite stimulating, you know.
I think we'll wait to talk about my former companions, shall we? And yours as well. I think that's a topic best left for conversation.
I apologize for making this so short, but I've had a rough day and I need some sleep. I promise I'll make the next one longer and more thought out. But know that even though this letter doesn't continue on paper, it continues in my heart. I'm thinking of you.
Adoringly,
Billy
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