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Two weeks of hell for the dream of my life.
Toronto, September 15, 2017
Hey, O.
No, no, please don’t worry about smearing your writing. It made me smile when I saw it, and it’s something that makes you, you. A little piece of information I’m tucking in the O folder.
Okay, pause. WHAT? This mail story is HILARIOUS. Talk about holding a grudge, hahaha. Now I’m picturing you on your porch fighting the letters out of his hands every morning and him leaving, stomping his feet. Gosh, I wish I could meet Emile. I like him already.
I would love to come visit one day. British Columbia has always been on the list of places I want to go to. Vast lands and gorgeous mountains, just me and the wilderness. The dream. Jerry’s sounds absolutely delicious. You had me at burger, honestly. I’m not a fancy food person. Give me chips and a hot dog, and I’m a happy gal. Toronto has some amazing finger foods, and I know all the best places.
I LOVE that you chose to send me an article on the weirdest animals in BC. It’s like you read my mind. Are you psychic? You’ll understand why I’m asking when you see the drawing I’m sending you. Finding unusual living, breathing creatures is my thing. The weird, the imperfect, the ugly, the outcast. They all need some love, don’t you think? And most of the time, they get rejected or abandoned because of a missing leg or crossed eyes. People are cruel.
Not just a cat lover. I love every animal. Through and through. Sometimes, I wonder if I wouldn’t be happier if I could be surrounded by animals 24/7 instead of humans.
Anyway, I’m babbling for nothing, haha. Let me know what you think about this article. I wasn’t very inspired, so give me all the feedback.
Talk soon!
C. (I’m liking the mystery of our names . . . )
Attached article
Looking to get lost around Toronto? We know just the (wild) places
Attached drawing
A cute spring softshell turtle
Chapter Five
I HATE IT HERE
Charlee
Riley
Change of plans! We’re having company tonight. Please dress appropriately.
Ihold back a snort. My sister can be sassy when she wants to be. I dress appropriately. I just don’t wear tight skirts or ridiculously high heels that could break my ankles any time I put one foot in front of the other.
But I guess my go-to worn-out shorts and too-large shirt won’t be on Riley’s “appropriate” list.
I throw my shirt on the bed, groaning.
Fine. Fine.
I know my sister well enough to have learned to pick and choose my battles over the years, and what she finds suitable for me to wear when it’s not just the two of us isn’t one I’ve decided to waste time on.
I rifle through my dresser and pull out a pair of black jeans and a dark-purple cashmere turtleneck. Then I run my fingers through my shoulder-length hair and try my best to comb the rogue auburn strands of my bangs.
I look at my reflection in the mirror. There. Presentable, right? I don’t know who is crashing our sisters’ night, but I hope Riley has a good reason not to spend my last hours in Toronto just the two of us like we planned.
So it better be the fucking queen of England visiting my dear sister tonight. Otherwise, I’m out of there.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know they were coming,” my sister furiously whispers as she closes the door behind her, trapping us on her front porch. “They wanted to surprise Miles. Mission accomplished,” she chuckles nervously. “I hope you don’t mind.”
I read the worry on her face as clear as day. Or maybe it’s because she’s my sister, and despite not being around her that much over the last few years, I know every single one of her expressions. And the way her brown eyes dip slightly, with her lips sealed into a thin line? She’s scared I might run off.
