Can't Love Christmas

November 7th - 2:08am

To: Cassiope@gomail.com

From: Ash10@gomail.com

Subject: This town is QUIRK

I have never sold as many analgesics in a single day as I did in the first 3 hours we were open today (yesterday? time has lost all meaning). Clearly, the bonfire is something else. I assume they were looking for hangover relief.

I mean, this town co-opted the date of Guy Fawkes night so it would be easy to remember when the bonfire is, and everyone just seems to attend? There's also this 'Society of People in Total Control of Themselves', who attend in beige robes and crazy hats and are absolutely adamant that nobody calls them Witches, even though it seems everyone does. One member is a plausible bear killer. Another is a lady I work with. They're all joined together as members, but outside of that group, I don't see what they have in common. I suppose voluntary membership in a group has a way of bringing people together that nothing else can match.

Perhaps the strangest part of all is the "poetry" the town goes rabid for. No one knows who the author is, but these mysterious writings appear around town following the bonfire. I cannot for the life of me make any sense of the poem this year. Like, I recognize each word individually to be part of the english language, but together, I don't know what it is.

They say these words have no matching half

But the silver orange was gifted by the angel

And hell hath no fury like the anxious wolf.

To run the marathon through the ninth month

Until the magnum opus drinks an empty pint

And one is left only to discombobulate.

For a rose is red, and a violet blue,

which is a total lie because violet is purple,

And now I shall bid you adieu.

I can't even with this, Cass. Apparently last year took the Society of PITCOTs (not Witches, just ask the bear killer) a week to decide what the winning "poem" was. This year, this collection of words won before the fire was even out.

I swear people back home wouldn't believe half of the things I could tell them about this town. But that's okay. Something about it just feels right, and it's starting to feel like a good place for me.

But, as much as this town is growing on me, my heart is still pulling me home. I'm worried about Ryan. They called at like 1:30am looking for a distraction, which means something bad has happened. First, I panicked because I thought something terrible had happened to someone in the family, but then I had to turn around and give the most in depth description of the crappy hallmark movie I was watching, and literally just work on my cross stitch while they watched.

Ryan wouldn't say what was going on. They also sent Reese away to hang out with friends, and I'm honestly surprised he went. He never leaves Ryan if it's a bad day. I mean, I'm so glad I can still be the safe space Ryan needs, but I don't feel like I can do enough from here. It may have been the toughest I-can't-hug-you-right-now-but-I'm-desperate-to feeling I've had since moving here.

Have I made a terrible choice by moving?

I know Ryan can handle themself, and they've got a strong support network ready to ride at dawn if needed, but I still worry. I know someone was a shithead to them, and I want to make them pay. SO BADLY.

It seemed like I helped Ryan get out of their head to be able to sleep, but now I'm fired up. Transphobes suck.

Perhaps I'll try to decipher the poem until I can fall asleep. Maybe there's a code in it somewhere?

ARE THEY A SECRET SPY ORGANIZATION? No, that's too far-fetched, even for this town. Thank goodness tomorrow is Saturday, because I am not sleeping tonight.