Forty-Fifth Paradox Writing

Dear Grandma and Grandpa,

I hope you are doing well. I’ve been really busy with my new friends. They took me to Silver Falls last week, and yesterday they took me up to the Governor’s office while he was away. My friends said that Mr. Governor would be honored if I sat in his office chair. And so I did! My friends took pictures, and they helped me paper clip it to the back of this letter.

I miss you a lot, and I promise to come home someday, but I wanna see more of the world before I stand in your front lawn and watch cars go by.

Love,

Your Garden Gnome Ithamar

I apologize for the delay of this reply. It seems this year, it’s a bit harder to spread the Christmas cheer. You see Lucy, it’s only people like you who keep the spirit of the season going. What, with all the wars, diseases, and grumbling complaints, it’s a wonder that people smile on Christmas day anymore than the other 364 days in a year.

I’m afraid I need your help, Lucy. According to news reporters, a notoriously bad person sneaked into my toy shop. He then proceeded to pretend to be me, and nearly answered a letter to a girl much like yourself. Thankfully, we caught him before he could send the letter out. Unfortunately, many people have overreacted to this bad situation, and made it even more tragic. Now the post office won’t deliver the letters to the North Pole.

Lucy, I need you to continue doing nice things instead of naughty things. I need you to be cheerful year round, but especially when it’s close to Christmas. Maybe then people will regain some hope in the human race, and I can recieve your letters and answer them more easily. We can only hope.

Faithfully yours,

Santa.

Dear Camelback High School Librarian,

Enclosed in this package is two long overdue books. Hopefully those poor bird-watchers didn’t miss them. It’s too bad that I packed them away before I could use them for my report. To this day, I’m still not sure if my teacher noticed or not when I gave my presentation in class.

I’m pretty sure though, if she’s still around, that Ms. Whatever-Her-Name-Was has an exact count of how many days of my two cents that I owe. Hopefully this check covers it all (knowing her, the rates may have changed.) May that likely retired librarian sleep peacefully at night from now on. If she hasn’t retired, allow me to apologize to any students under her jurisdiction.

Yours Truly,

A student from the class of ’58

Dear Bibliophile,

I’ve heard you have a special affection for those things called books. If the rumors have any veracity to them, then why not me? I don’t mean to sound pretentious, concieted, or histrionic, but I feel a bit neglected. I’ll have you know that I have quite the spine, the smarts, though I’ve been known to be a bit thick.

I can change, I promise! I’ll rewrite every word enscribed on every leaflet between my two ends. Shakespeare has timeless sonnets, and I’ll quote every love poem he ever put forth in writing if you will just open me and read these words off my pages! Or the Odyssey, perhaps? I’ll tell every stanza in epic proportions so that you’ll never be able to put me down.

But, if you only like picture books or pop-up books, I’m afraid I can’t help you. Such things have always been beneath me.

Loquatiously yours,

Identifying Your Insecurities, By Richard Laughlin

Dear Person Two Seats Away From Me:

Thank you so much for your quick rejection to my confession of my love for you. It helped me realize something, that I’m better off without an attachment to you. I realized that I have tresses redder than mahogany, skin softer and sweeter than peaches, and fingernails stronger than most without your help. Not only that, I realized I can sing, dance, frolic, and sway without the aid of a boyfriend. In some cases, a boyfriend would only get in the way.

Don’t take it too personally, but I’m breaking off our relationship before it starts. Don’t cry for me, okay? And I won’t write to that other guy, that’s something you’ll have to fix all on your own, because I don’t need you anymore.

Not yours,

Formerly Your Secret Admirer

Dear Secret Admirer,

Who the heck are you? To be honest, you really creep me out, like creepy creepy. In fact, I’d really appreciate it if you’d stop writing this love letters. Sheesh, I mean, who writes letters these days anyway? It just screams stalker. I’ve been sneezing like crazy ever since I opened this note, don’t you know perfume can kill some people? I hope you catch my cold.

Besides, you can’t possibly be the girl that sits two seats away. She doesn’t even know I exist. She’s pretty…no, she’s hot. Problem is, she’s always watching the guy in front of her. What does he have that I don’t? Just because he’s tall, smart….okay, maybe he does have something going for him. But I’m not much worse!

Why don’t you send him love letters and solve both our problems?

Sincerely, the guy two seats away.

Dear Person two seats away from me,

I think I like you. No, I really like you, like like you. I like the way you sit in class, bored out of your mind, with your sky-blue eyes staring holes into the wall, next to the professor, not at the professor. The way you bounce your pencil on your desk is like a symphony to me. Every time you flip your golden hair out of your face I can’t help but notice. That bored sigh that escapes your frowning lips often distracts me from whatever the Professor’s talking about today.

I wish I could tell you this face to face, but the half-asleep look on your face overwhelms me any time I step closer to you. Just one shake of your head makes me think you hate me, but I know that can’t be true. The smile on your face the other day told me you like me too, like like me. So…want to write back to me sometime? My friends say I’m a pretty good conversationalist.

Sincerely yours (I hope)

Your secret admirer

Dear Customer Service,

About two weeks ago I sent to you my computer. I want it back. If you don’t send my computer back to me soon, I’ll come for it myself. Thank you for providing your mailing address which happens to match the address to your corporate headquarters and your warehouse. Consider this letter your warning: I’m on my way, and I’m a very dissatisfied customer.

Soon to be your uninvited guest:

The Owner of the Red Dell Laptop

Dear Father Time,

After all the wonder-filled months I have spent at your company, today I must bid ‘farewell.’ Do not misunderstand me, Father, I have enjoyed my part as the year 2008. I have seen a black man become president, a woman run for vice president for the Republican Party, and an Oregonian turning in their plastic water bottles for a five cent refund.

In spite of the wonderful things I have witnessed, I have also beheld things that could only age me faster. I have seen famine, hardship, apathy, and utter hate. Over my time as the year 2008, I have witnessed wars breaking out, people rejecting other people solely based on differing political beliefs, and drivers passing homeless people on the streets without a second glance.

By the time my replacement shows, I will have aged past my due. Please give 2009 my warm wishes, my crossed fingers, and my parting words; he will need all three to survive his career. I foresee a tough time ahead, but I rest assured that the year 2009 will rise to the occasion.

Sincerely yours,

2008

Dear Mr. U. B. Spider,

I regret to inform you, but your career as 858 Dockling Lane’s household spider has come to an end. In light of the current economy and the needs of the household, I can no longer afford the expenses of time and space to keep you employed as the ugly brown spider in your office inside my guitar case.

Normally I would hand you a pink slip notifying you of your employment termination, but unfortunately the household has run out of pink slips and has yet to order more. In lieu of the traditional pink slip, my Vice President of Human Resources offered the suggestion of beating you with a shoe until your early death. Please brace yourself, as I’ve heard that shoe beatings can be rather hard on your family.

Sincerely,

Melody Jacobs

President of Human/Arachnid Resources,

858 Dockling Lane Inc.