Dear December,
The fog swallowed up the whole town today and everything looked ethereal. You couldn't see twenty feet in front of you but we ran anyway.
So I think I've got a classics thing going on. Lately I've been reading those old books that have words like 'highly acclaimed' and 'modern classic' on the backs and were made into movies way back when. My brother read To Kill a Mockingbird when he was my age, so I figured, why not start now? Still, I'm wondering how topics like rape and depression are considered fifth grade reading level. (it's 5.7 RL according to the system our libraries use) And even if it was based on vocabulary, 'predilection' and 'meditative' are hardly words an eleven-year-old uses.
I don't know. Maybe I should stop talking about this kind of boring stuff and just read it already. I like Scout, I like Atticus, and I need to go to sleep soon. I've got the feeling of tinsel on my fingertips from decorating drums for the Christmas parade and the scent of lemongrass on my skin. My eyes are ready to close for the night, and even though I shiver I'm warm on the inside. There's a guy, a friend, and I should stop writing about him. Then again, you should take my 'shoulds' with a grain of salt, since I rarely ever follow through with them.
Goodnight, 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'.
