over her. To look them squarely in the eye, tell them “bullshit,” and then leave gave her the upper hand.
As she entered her bungalow, she saw a piece of mail had been slipped under the door. A closer look revealed it was from Moxie, and she was unable to suppress a smile. “Your timing’s getting a whole lot better, toots.”
She sat on the sofa, and Clitty jumped up to sit beside her. Slowly, she slid her finger under the envelope flap and prepared herself for whatever Moxie had decided to write.
Violet,
To say that I’ve thought about writing you a hundred times may be an understatement, so let’s agree that the number is somewhere between a hundred and five thousand. Every time I considered not replying to your last letter, I experienced an overwhelming sadness. And every time I considered replying, I wondered what I would say and exactly what it would mean.
The truth is that I want very much to correspond with you. I love getting your letters. I’ve never really received mail before so, yes, it has a certain novelty. But the stories of your comically tawdry exploits must unquestionably surpass what passes for a standard letter these days.
This may shock you, but most of us just muddle through our lives without a constant parade of anal artists, public fornicators, ass musicians, and pancake-eating corpses vying for our attention. I’m still not certain exactly what quality you possess that attracts these kinds of people, but it wouldn’t be truthful if I said that I didn’t find it fascinating, in a bizarre, carnival-sideshow sort of way.
I suppose I should try and catch you up on things here. Julian has started coming into the Luna a couple times a week. He’s almost always on the arm of a fella named Gary, who’s fairly easy on the eyes.
According to Julian, Wil is a hair’s breadth away from getting canned from Secrets and Lies . Apparently her drinking (and God only knows what else) is becoming increasingly detrimental to her performance. She drinks to steel her nerves, does poorly because she’s sozzled, and then gets even more nervous for the next night’s performance, so she has a little more. I don’t know if you’ve spoken with her since your arrival in California, but perhaps you could contact her and offer her some consolation or advice. It’s ironic that a woman who seemed so self-possessed when I met her can deep down be filled with such self-doubt.
I got my third set at the Luna, and I hear that I may have you to thank for that. I appreciate anything you may have told my boss to make him consider it. So far, things are going well. While I’m busy now, and the money’s better, I worry that I may be running myself ragged. Cotton, my agent, says he’s trying to get someone from the Kasbah to come out to see me perform in the hopes that I can transition from upscale juice joint to upscale supper club. It would be fantastic if that happened, if just for the shift in clientele—to work for people who weren’t necessarily criminals. After the supper club, who knows? Perhaps I could even put out a record.
For the first time I’m starting to feel like my life may not have limits. Things are really looking up for me, and somehow meeting you seems to be a part of that sensation—perhaps the catalyst.
I do think of you, quite a bit, and I recall our night on the town every day in some fashion or another. I’d be a fool to say that I completely understand my feelings for you, but I do know that somewhere mixed in with the trepidation, anxiety, and confusion is a good deal of appreciation, elation, and amusement.
In no way could I consider you a nuisance. There is a strange void that your letters somehow help to fill. They make me laugh and feel significant, so please keep writing them.
Tell me how the film is going and how your co-stars are. How has Clitty been enjoying it out there? (I mean the dog.) Have you been able to convince the powers that be to modify the ending? When
As she entered her bungalow, she saw a piece of mail had been slipped under the door. A closer look revealed it was from Moxie, and she was unable to suppress a smile. “Your timing’s getting a whole lot better, toots.”
She sat on the sofa, and Clitty jumped up to sit beside her. Slowly, she slid her finger under the envelope flap and prepared herself for whatever Moxie had decided to write.
Violet,
To say that I’ve thought about writing you a hundred times may be an understatement, so let’s agree that the number is somewhere between a hundred and five thousand. Every time I considered not replying to your last letter, I experienced an overwhelming sadness. And every time I considered replying, I wondered what I would say and exactly what it would mean.
The truth is that I want very much to correspond with you. I love getting your letters. I’ve never really received mail before so, yes, it has a certain novelty. But the stories of your comically tawdry exploits must unquestionably surpass what passes for a standard letter these days.
This may shock you, but most of us just muddle through our lives without a constant parade of anal artists, public fornicators, ass musicians, and pancake-eating corpses vying for our attention. I’m still not certain exactly what quality you possess that attracts these kinds of people, but it wouldn’t be truthful if I said that I didn’t find it fascinating, in a bizarre, carnival-sideshow sort of way.
I suppose I should try and catch you up on things here. Julian has started coming into the Luna a couple times a week. He’s almost always on the arm of a fella named Gary, who’s fairly easy on the eyes.
According to Julian, Wil is a hair’s breadth away from getting canned from Secrets and Lies . Apparently her drinking (and God only knows what else) is becoming increasingly detrimental to her performance. She drinks to steel her nerves, does poorly because she’s sozzled, and then gets even more nervous for the next night’s performance, so she has a little more. I don’t know if you’ve spoken with her since your arrival in California, but perhaps you could contact her and offer her some consolation or advice. It’s ironic that a woman who seemed so self-possessed when I met her can deep down be filled with such self-doubt.
I got my third set at the Luna, and I hear that I may have you to thank for that. I appreciate anything you may have told my boss to make him consider it. So far, things are going well. While I’m busy now, and the money’s better, I worry that I may be running myself ragged. Cotton, my agent, says he’s trying to get someone from the Kasbah to come out to see me perform in the hopes that I can transition from upscale juice joint to upscale supper club. It would be fantastic if that happened, if just for the shift in clientele—to work for people who weren’t necessarily criminals. After the supper club, who knows? Perhaps I could even put out a record.
For the first time I’m starting to feel like my life may not have limits. Things are really looking up for me, and somehow meeting you seems to be a part of that sensation—perhaps the catalyst.
I do think of you, quite a bit, and I recall our night on the town every day in some fashion or another. I’d be a fool to say that I completely understand my feelings for you, but I do know that somewhere mixed in with the trepidation, anxiety, and confusion is a good deal of appreciation, elation, and amusement.
In no way could I consider you a nuisance. There is a strange void that your letters somehow help to fill. They make me laugh and feel significant, so please keep writing them.
Tell me how the film is going and how your co-stars are. How has Clitty been enjoying it out there? (I mean the dog.) Have you been able to convince the powers that be to modify the ending? When
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