Nov. 18
Dear Alex,
Last night, the clouds dumped their frozen tears all over the farm. It was still snowing when I got up and I raced into your room and jumped into bed with you, like a little kid. "It's snowing!" I whispered into your neck.
You spent the morning snow-blowing the driveway, and I cleaned the washrooms and dusted for Emery. Luckily, she still insisted on cooking, because I am hopeless at that. She showed us how to clean out stables- it's not half as bad as I thought it would be. It's physically draining, but it's therapeutic. It's repetitive, and there are no unknown answers. We put on some music and cleaned out the stables until dinner.
After dinner, we went outside to finally enjoy the snowfall. We made a flock of snow angels, then we built a snowman as tall as you and gave it a pinecone nose. We named it Pablo.
I can see Pablo from my window- he's a little lopsided from this angle, but he's perfect. I am pressing my hand to the wall between us. Can you feel me? I can feel you. I can feel your aurora buzzing off your skin, penetrating the drywall and keeping me warm.
I love you so much.
Love,
Carrie
YOU ARE READING
Wayward Hearts
Teen Fiction"Remember when we were voted cutest couple at the end of senior year? A lot has changed since then. Tell me- why did you come back?" Alex and Carrie have been best friends for as long as they can remember. Suffering through life in their poor, dump...
