Dear December,
Storm today, meaning the power's out. Where do I begin? With waking up and the feeling that something's not right, sleep weighing down my eyelids and when I flip the switch nothing comes. A little bit dark and a little bit useless. Powerless.
We're using candles and flashlights now. Totally cool, right? I feel like one of those ghost hunters creeping around dilapidated houses at phone light, just waiting for something to jump out at me. I think I've been feeling something like that for a while, and now the scene's just set. It's a little perfect, and a whole lot creepy. Mostly just inconvenient. I just want the power back so I can stop charging my stuff at the library.
Anyway. I'm reading Catcher in the Rye, and I just got to that part where Holden's talking to Phoebe and then he says something along the lines of, "I'd like to be the catcher in the rye," and you know s.hit just got serious when they quote the title. I'm waiting for some words that click and I'm thinking that I have to look for them myself.
-Esther
YOU ARE READING
dear december
Non-FictionContinued from last month's Dear November letters. A little less angsty, a little more poetic. Originally done on Polyvore, by @writingtips' and @smileylina 's suggestion, who got the idea from Youtuber Carrie Fletcher's series 'Letters to Autumn'.
