The Only Two Tragedies In Life

January 23rd, 1461, Drughijibek, 2nd Military Base for the Novikov's Army

Dear Scumbag, 

You didn't wish me luck in the New Year! You're breaking my heart! How could you betray our long-held family tradition of wishing luck in the coming year! I wished for your luck, why didn't you wish for mine? I am taking this as a personal offence, and will now only refer to you with childishly derogatory names, such as Scumbag. The celebration of the New Year was rather bland with only a few other bone-tired doctors around for company. I mean there's always the infirmary... or the graves, but that felt a little intrusive. So, I spent my New Years outside in the cold with a bottle of who-knows-what kind of liquor, a blanket, and the hope that a letter from you would arrive. I sat in this quaint little alcove, that I found a while ago, and watched the. dawn of a new day and year, as well as the dawn of disappointment from not receiving a letter. It kind of reminded me of the times we used to wait for Papa to come back from the forest in the early morning. We would look out the window in shifts, one of us with our nose pressed to the cold window, the other warming their hands next to the fire. He would always come in just after the first peek of the sun over the horizon. An axe in one hand, a bag full of wood in the other. Maybe that night I wasn't just waiting for your letter. I think I miss the way he would ruffle our hair, or the way Mama's hands always scraped against our cheeks 'cause of her callouses. I think I miss them more than I realize. It's lonely growing up. 

I expect a long letter in return, 

Roo