(no subject)
Dearest Ann,
You’ll be glad to hear that the cold is abating and that I’ll soon be free of my homely prison. Of course, I’ve been visiting the bar. It’s the one place where I won’t be accosted with someone’s theatrical ideas, no matter how intriguing. I simply don’t have the energy to think of anything but my own writing, and you. I admit hypocrisy for being as vocal about you as my friends have their ideas. I can’t help it. Everyone should have the honor of meeting you, and if they cannot meet you, then hear about you, at least.
I met a fellow named Ray who said he met you. He mentioned a strange thing called coffee soda, a Manhattan Special, I think, which is found in Little Italy. I haven’t been. Oh, speaking of food, a man whose full name I can’t spell, I just think of him as “Ko,” keeps giving me an excess of fruit. He gave me a fruit basket to give to you. It’s in my house, presently, but I will have Bar deliver it if you can’t be here soon. I would rather you come here.
If by chance you do visit and I am asleep, just wake me up. I couldn’t think of any better wake-up call than you, if you don’t mind me being sentimental. But aren’t we always sentimental? That’s part of our charm. It’s our particular flavor of sentimentality and I don’t want to taste another.
I hope this day has seen you well.
Yours,
J.D.
You’ll be glad to hear that the cold is abating and that I’ll soon be free of my homely prison. Of course, I’ve been visiting the bar. It’s the one place where I won’t be accosted with someone’s theatrical ideas, no matter how intriguing. I simply don’t have the energy to think of anything but my own writing, and you. I admit hypocrisy for being as vocal about you as my friends have their ideas. I can’t help it. Everyone should have the honor of meeting you, and if they cannot meet you, then hear about you, at least.
I met a fellow named Ray who said he met you. He mentioned a strange thing called coffee soda, a Manhattan Special, I think, which is found in Little Italy. I haven’t been. Oh, speaking of food, a man whose full name I can’t spell, I just think of him as “Ko,” keeps giving me an excess of fruit. He gave me a fruit basket to give to you. It’s in my house, presently, but I will have Bar deliver it if you can’t be here soon. I would rather you come here.
If by chance you do visit and I am asleep, just wake me up. I couldn’t think of any better wake-up call than you, if you don’t mind me being sentimental. But aren’t we always sentimental? That’s part of our charm. It’s our particular flavor of sentimentality and I don’t want to taste another.
I hope this day has seen you well.
Yours,
J.D.