I HOPE YOUR FIRST DAY BACK AT SCHOOL WAS GOOD.
I'M AT THE ALEXANDER TECHNIQUE CLASS LEARNING HOW TO MAKE MY NECK STOP MAKING THAT CRUNCHING SOUND WHEN I TURN AROUND.
IF YOU'RE BORED TONIGHT WHY DON'T YOU WRITE DOWN EVERYTHING THAT COMES INTO YOUR MIND WHEN YOU HEAR THE WORD TOOTHPASTE?
WITH LOTS OF LOVE FROM YOUR MUM
I'm going to bed now. I hope your neck has stopped crunching.
My first day back was okay. But Celia wasn't there.
I went for a run over to her place and Mrs. Buckley says she climbed out of her bedroom window last night and disappeared again. Mrs. Buckley said she heard her climbing out the window because she fell on top of Benjamin's drum kit which he has in the garden so that he can practice by moonlight. But Mrs. Buckley just pretended not to hear. She says we should all just breathe in and out and stop stressing, and leave Celia to figure out Celia's own thing.
Thank you for your exciting suggestion about how to spend my night tonight.
Here is what comes into my mind when I hear the word TOOTHPASTE:
Lots of love,
A LETTER FROM A COMPLETE AND UTTER STRANGER
Dear Elizabeth Clarry,
Actually I think oatmeal is cool. You probably just haven't had good oatmeal. It has to be steaming like a shower so it burns the tastebuds off of your tongue, and you have to tip a packet of brown sugar on top of it.
I wrote an essay on To Kill a Mockingbird last term. If you need it, I'll send it to you. I think the best way to forge ties between our schools is for us to swap homework. Have you ever done an assignment on the human immune system?
Also, I've got two brothers and two sisters and they're all younger than me. So I'm the oldest.
What's the deal with "long-distance running"? How long is a long distance anyway? And how come you like that?
Write back again cos I forgive you for being a nice private school girl.
PS. How come it's important that your friend Celia didn't get on the bus this morning? Is she like in a wheelchair or something?
A LETTER TO SOMEONE WHO IS PRACTICALLY A STRANGER
Dear Christina Kratovac,
I don't know what to do about the oatmeal.
Maybe we just shouldn't talk about it?
Copyright (c) 2000 Jaclyn Moriarty. All rights reserved. Reproduced by the permission of the publisher, St Martin's Press. No part of this book may be reproduced without written permission from the publisher.
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