finds you in good favor, health, and spirit. You were signed up for the pen pal program at Holman Correctional Facility. According to your sentence, you have to serve twelve months. Though a year may seem like a long time, you have a second chance once you’re released. I’m interested in getting to know you, providing emotional support, and lending my ear through this pen pal service. I can tell you a bit about myself to help get the ball rolling. I’m a teacher. I like to write poetry and work with children, especially those with developmental challenges. I’m open-minded and believe everyone can change if given the right incentive and circumstances. According to these directions, I’m supposed to answer these five questions and you’re to do the same as an icebreaker:
What’s my favorite food? Ahi tuna
What’s my favorite song or musical group? Anything by Jodi Mitchell… I love old music, even the stuff that played way before I was born.
What’s my favorite book? John Berryman’s, ‘The Dream Songs’. It’s a book of poetry.
What’s my favorite holiday? Thanksgiving
What’s my favorite color? Shades of blue. I like almost anything that is blue. I’m drawn to it.
Some say I’m a bit old fashioned at times, but fun loving. I’d say that is fairly true though I do have an open mind. I look forward to your response.
Sincerely,
Melissa…
She looked about as she tried to devise a faux last name, and then, a half dilapidated box from a recently purchased grill cover that was folded by her trashcan gave her just what she needed…
Weber. Yeah, that’ll do.
Sincerely,
Melissa Weber
Mia folded the letter in a perfect tri-fold. She tapped the edge of the thing along the table, falling into deliberations, some of which made her squirm in her seat.
Girl, you know you’re wrong for this…
She smirked as Al Stewart’s, ‘Year of the Cat’ began to play.
Why are you doing this? Well, hardly anyone else signed up and Dr. Owens was right. These guys need someone to talk to that is outside the prison, to help keep their spirits up and anxiety down. There’s nothing wrong with what I’m doing… I’m just trying to help. What they don’t know won’t hurt them… or will it?
She sat a bit straighter as she continued to wrestle with herself, turning and twisting the damn letter all the while.
I have to step out of my comfort zone again and do what I feel is right. I’m helping, and that’s that.
She got to her feet, the letter in hand, and made her way back to her stove. Taking hold of a large, freshly sharpened knife, she sliced through the thick, soft thing, gooey and dripping with dark brown lava-like fudge. Smiling at her culinary skills, she scooped up a small, moist slither onto a tiny plate, grabbed a clean fork and napkin from the drawer, and headed to her bedroom, the letter tucked neatly under her arm…
Chapter Five
G IN B LOSSOMS’ ‘ J EALOUSY’ played through freshly unwrapped black wires as the music delivered a blow by blow to his awaiting ears. Aaron tapped his booted foot to the beat against the concrete floor as he went through his odds and ends, specially delivered from the mailroom. His white attire, care of Holman, was stiff with overly generous bleach methods. This afternoon he’d received a care package from an old friend but more treasured was a little handwritten letter from his seven-year-old daughter, Laura.
My baby’s birthday is comin’ soon… I’ll have to make sure to send her something…
He slid his finger under the envelope slit and tore it open to remove the note, adorned with tiny crayon drawings of trees, houses, and an enormous sun in the corner of the paper:
Hi Daddy,
I miss you. I love you. I got a gold star in class today. I went swimming at Connie’s house in her new pool and we ate some cake. She is getting a new puppy. Can I have a new puppy?
Bye
Laura
He smiled down at the thing as he leaned back against his bed, his head slightly propped by the
What’s my favorite food? Ahi tuna
What’s my favorite song or musical group? Anything by Jodi Mitchell… I love old music, even the stuff that played way before I was born.
What’s my favorite book? John Berryman’s, ‘The Dream Songs’. It’s a book of poetry.
What’s my favorite holiday? Thanksgiving
What’s my favorite color? Shades of blue. I like almost anything that is blue. I’m drawn to it.
Some say I’m a bit old fashioned at times, but fun loving. I’d say that is fairly true though I do have an open mind. I look forward to your response.
Sincerely,
Melissa…
She looked about as she tried to devise a faux last name, and then, a half dilapidated box from a recently purchased grill cover that was folded by her trashcan gave her just what she needed…
Weber. Yeah, that’ll do.
Sincerely,
Melissa Weber
Mia folded the letter in a perfect tri-fold. She tapped the edge of the thing along the table, falling into deliberations, some of which made her squirm in her seat.
Girl, you know you’re wrong for this…
She smirked as Al Stewart’s, ‘Year of the Cat’ began to play.
Why are you doing this? Well, hardly anyone else signed up and Dr. Owens was right. These guys need someone to talk to that is outside the prison, to help keep their spirits up and anxiety down. There’s nothing wrong with what I’m doing… I’m just trying to help. What they don’t know won’t hurt them… or will it?
She sat a bit straighter as she continued to wrestle with herself, turning and twisting the damn letter all the while.
I have to step out of my comfort zone again and do what I feel is right. I’m helping, and that’s that.
She got to her feet, the letter in hand, and made her way back to her stove. Taking hold of a large, freshly sharpened knife, she sliced through the thick, soft thing, gooey and dripping with dark brown lava-like fudge. Smiling at her culinary skills, she scooped up a small, moist slither onto a tiny plate, grabbed a clean fork and napkin from the drawer, and headed to her bedroom, the letter tucked neatly under her arm…
Chapter Five
G IN B LOSSOMS’ ‘ J EALOUSY’ played through freshly unwrapped black wires as the music delivered a blow by blow to his awaiting ears. Aaron tapped his booted foot to the beat against the concrete floor as he went through his odds and ends, specially delivered from the mailroom. His white attire, care of Holman, was stiff with overly generous bleach methods. This afternoon he’d received a care package from an old friend but more treasured was a little handwritten letter from his seven-year-old daughter, Laura.
My baby’s birthday is comin’ soon… I’ll have to make sure to send her something…
He slid his finger under the envelope slit and tore it open to remove the note, adorned with tiny crayon drawings of trees, houses, and an enormous sun in the corner of the paper:
Hi Daddy,
I miss you. I love you. I got a gold star in class today. I went swimming at Connie’s house in her new pool and we ate some cake. She is getting a new puppy. Can I have a new puppy?
Bye
Laura
He smiled down at the thing as he leaned back against his bed, his head slightly propped by the
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