I’m sitting here at four in the morning writing you this letter. My two month old got sick and threw up all over my side of the bed. I’m now on the couch, with a towel on the floor beside me in case she has another round. I’m in a medium amount of pain because she was only halfway done…
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It was almost Christmas, I was five years old, and my class at school was preparing for the Nativity play. Our teacher, Mrs. Davies, allocated the parts while we waited with anticipation, all the girls hoping to be chosen to play Mary, or at least one of the angels. When my name was called, it was to play the part…
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“Well they must be dumb.” The young, thin postal worker’s eyes bulge a little in the light of his computer screen. “They tried to send your letter to…Nebraska.” He turns again to me, lips pursed. “Aha,” I say, eyebrows raised. “Well, that’s not even close to Germany!” “Right?” We both laugh. My letter will be outdated by the time it…
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