Dear Erin

Posted: March 25, 2012 in Dear Erin, Faction, Fiction, Homework
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Dear Erin,

I hope this letter finds you well. It is finding me in a strangely wonderful new place. I never thought that this area would suit me, but like the chrysanthemums that seem to be blooming in every doorway, it is growing on me quickly. You’ll definitely have to visit soon before this newness fades. Maybe it last forever here. You walk, or rather stroll, down the brick lined streets and people says hello to you as you pass. If they had top hats, I would swear that the gents would tip them. The first few times it happened, I put my hand over my wallet and walked, er, strolled quickly away. Ha. It’s strange to feel comfortable around strangers.

As I stroll around the downtown area I am always taken back by how it smells. I guess there are some things that you don’t notice in life until they smack you in the face. We must get used to foulness so that it doesn’t bother us anymore. The fresh essence of what I imagine to be purities are just delightful. You see, the edge of downtown is at the mouth of two rivers that lead straight to the shore, so I guess that’s the source of the power behind the great smells. The ocean air seems to rush up the river and just make everything so surreal. Each step down here has a new bouquet of nasal delights. I feel like I drift around in a Bugs Bunny cartoon following the wavy drawn whiffs of air.

These whiffs, or is it wisps, are what led me in to this coffee shop. Ah, that is where I am sitting right now. This coffee joint is an old converted brick warehouse. Well, I guess everything is old down here. This town was founded in 1710. Everything is brick and cozy and colonial. The coffee shop has local art on the brick walls for sale. Did I mention there’s a lot of brick? Ha. The floor is stone, though. They are big greyish blue slabs of stone. It’s very cool and comfortable. It’s divided right down the middle. The other half has antiques and vendors and stuff. I haven’t been there yet. I may stroll through after I finish this letter and my fresh ground roasted in the shop cup of hot Joe. It sure is tasty.

You know what? The old men scattered among tables around are eating their sweet smelling Danishes too noisily for me to concentrate. They want to chat about the weather and things. I may actually have to find the library for some peace. Strangers being nice, go figure.

Write back and stay wild,

t.harold

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Comments
  1. Erin says:

    This is awesome! Thanks for letting me know about your secret I’m very honoured!! Also for the letter! Wow.

    Big hugs!

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