Dear Carol,

I used to think you were quite attractive. You had these amazing hips that flowed down your body like a beautiful prairie landscape. Your teeth were slightly crooked, but in the most perfect way. Your hair smelled like daffodils, even when you didn't wash it. Your breath smelled like an old cedar chair, which is weird, but at least it didn't reek. Your hands felt like ivory. Your eyes shined like a moon. Your smile made my knees weak. Your charm belonged hidden in a rainbow. Your words were so soft.

These things are not the reason for my letter, but rather I write this to inform you I know longer want to see you. You've grown ugly. Ugly like a rat.



Best Regards,


Benjamin Road

Dear Carol,


Dinner was amazing. It all smelled so good and tasted so much like it smelled. When I walked into the room the aroma was like a thick fog I had to feel my way through. I'm truly sorry about bumping my hand into your face, but you know as well as I the air was that thick, you couldn't even see in front of yourself. I'm also sorry about your cat, I will replace it as soon as my leg heals. There's a litter of baby cats in the alley behind my house, they look similar to the one you used to have. I'm also sorry about knocking over your lamp and having it smash all over the ground, shattering into tiny little glass bits, which we had to blindly walk over to get to the table. I hope your feet are looking better, and also your head after you knocked it on that counter. Oops. Your face will always be beautiful to me. Very nice dessert too; apples and cheese. I've never heard of that before, is it european? Very different.

When you get out of the hospital you should stop by my apartment. I'm making some tuna salad and would love to feed you for once, I know your probably being spoiled by the nurses right now, but I can make a mean tuna salad and would enjoy your company.



Best re guards,


Ramona Field