September 13th, 1695
Dear Elizabeth,
He has given me paper once again. We have finally exchanged names. His is Clayton. I get the same feeling all over again. Clay- yea i call him clay now, also- gave me a gift package he other day. It was full of clothes, sweaters, a comb, paper, pens. We know each other so well. So i am filling a small box i found in the trash- were i found it will be our little secret hehe!- and am filling it with bones, dog food, and scissors, don't ask where i got them. He has been desperately wanting a pair. he wants to start his own tailoring business. He has had his eye on a little building just a few twists and turns down from his work. it includes an extension for a living place for two. I dream of me being that second person. Thinking about this gives me that feeling all over again. I have come to believe this feeling is a thing people call, affection, ardor, amorousness, or love.
Twas true about the bombing, it hit a block down from his tailor shop. We were just chatting, as usual, when we heard a large sound, and every one fell to the ground at once. The ground shook that much. He wrapped his arm around me protectively, as if we were the only people there, and gently brought us down together still in each others arms. Then, i saw it. Flames surrounding the shop just down the street. A women next to us burst into tears. Her husband worked there. They had four children. it was the saddest thing i had ever seen.
Sincerely,
Fairlamb
YOU ARE READING
Dear Elizabeth
DiversosFairlamb 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
