September, 2nd, 1695,
Dear Elizabeth,
Hello Again. A rather handsom guy who works down at the tailor shop has been giving me paper. We have become rather close. I am surprised he is not disgusted with my looks. We chat for about an hour or so and i say farewell and head back to my box. we chat about our pets, he has a dog named Spot. It is a Begeal. come to think of it, i have not got his name. Just the sight of his blonde shaggy hair and baby blue eyeshives me this Warm, fuzzy, Tingling, feeeling inside. I have never experienced this before. I have no Thought of what I am feeling. What is your opinion on what I am feeling?
Thanks to you, some of our village's debt has vanished! thank you for giving us the donation. It was a very kind act of generousity. thank you.
I had stolen- please forgive me- a newspaper from an elderly man when he got up to get a cup tea. It read "Scot-Irish Bombs Small Town Just West Of Cambolina" Is this true, Elizabeth? The town is in fear of us being next. Please tell us this is not so. Even the children know of this. Their parents are not very good at keeping secrets.
Sincerly,
Fairlamb
YOU ARE READING
Dear Elizabeth
RandomFairlamb is not your average hobo. She falls in love, moves in with a speacial someone, and gets kidnapped, and has the time of her life. She will enjoy telling this to her grandchildren
