Dear Mickey
Happy new year my mousely friend. I hope it was a good one and that you had the house to yourself again. Do you get the house to yourself? Are you still alive? I worry about you...if only you would write.
Never have I felt further away from you than I do now as I look at you from across a year. Last year, we shared a flat and this year, we don't even speak. Life is unspeakably cruel is it not? Not only a Channel separates us but a set of keys and a tenancy agreement. I can't even come and visit you because I didn't pay my final electricity bill and the landlord will not be happy with me. Paris, France, Lecoq, St Amboise, Mickey...I now have the happy habit of the unhappy of looking back at it all with such happiness, joy, longing. Yes Mickey, I miss you. I miss it ALL. Can that be possible? My friend Alison predicted this. How right she was. And for all my whingeing about Paris, which friend, won't stop, she did what she said on the tin because look at me, still writing. She started everything and she finished others.
And now what? Well Mickey, I want a pet dog. I've wanted one for years but the urge has now become hysterical. I think maybe my maternal instinct is re directed here because a dog won't stop me sitting quietly and reading and it can't talk back. Only Mickey, I can't afford a dog, nor am I allowed one in my flat, nor would I want one unless I lived alone. To live alone I need a one room palace (finances dictate), much like ours. A dog cannot live in a one room Palace. Mouse, yes. Cat, yes (although for obvious reasons, not together). A dog? NO. What am I going to do?
Oh Mickey, things were simpler last year weren't they? We both knew where we stood. God I hope they don't feed you better than I did. You've already forgotten me haven't you? My one true friend. Remember how I cried? I know you were looking after me. For one, crying nights meant a very quiet mouse. We really were in it together.
Write back soon. Please.
H x
Never have I felt further away from you than I do now as I look at you from across a year. Last year, we shared a flat and this year, we don't even speak. Life is unspeakably cruel is it not? Not only a Channel separates us but a set of keys and a tenancy agreement. I can't even come and visit you because I didn't pay my final electricity bill and the landlord will not be happy with me. Paris, France, Lecoq, St Amboise, Mickey...I now have the happy habit of the unhappy of looking back at it all with such happiness, joy, longing. Yes Mickey, I miss you. I miss it ALL. Can that be possible? My friend Alison predicted this. How right she was. And for all my whingeing about Paris, which friend, won't stop, she did what she said on the tin because look at me, still writing. She started everything and she finished others.
And now what? Well Mickey, I want a pet dog. I've wanted one for years but the urge has now become hysterical. I think maybe my maternal instinct is re directed here because a dog won't stop me sitting quietly and reading and it can't talk back. Only Mickey, I can't afford a dog, nor am I allowed one in my flat, nor would I want one unless I lived alone. To live alone I need a one room palace (finances dictate), much like ours. A dog cannot live in a one room Palace. Mouse, yes. Cat, yes (although for obvious reasons, not together). A dog? NO. What am I going to do?
Oh Mickey, things were simpler last year weren't they? We both knew where we stood. God I hope they don't feed you better than I did. You've already forgotten me haven't you? My one true friend. Remember how I cried? I know you were looking after me. For one, crying nights meant a very quiet mouse. We really were in it together.
Write back soon. Please.
H x
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