That Only Exception

How do you know who I am? You have a weird name. Does it mean something? And how did you get my address?

I showed my mother your letter, and she advised me that I should reply. She said you sounded lovely and that I needed someone my age to talk to. My mother is slightly incompetent.

First of all, I am nine years old. You are eight. I am in the third grade. You are in the second grade. You write sentence fragments, I speak in complete sentences. Your teacher, Ms. Gilligan was it? Yes, well she sounds rather incompetent. I worry you’ll be following her path.

I suppose I should introduce myself. My name is Noah Richardson. You have been previously informed of my age, and school grade, though I figure you’re probably curious to know more about me.

My favorite fruit is star fruit. I feel it has a sweet taste, which follows beautifully with the slight bitterness of its skin. My favorite color is a particular sky blue, for the simple reason I feel it both mentally and physically stimulates myself. I do not watch television; for I feel it has little to do with real life, and does in my opinion, eliminate brain cells. Your grammar is clear evidence of such.

I care not for your dog. They carry fleas and are more than 60% likely to spread diseases in a household. I figured you had no idea of such. Your brother has a rather curious nickname, though I find little interest in finding out more. I have no siblings.

Your house sounds rather extravagant. My own follows such a lead, though I won’t care to expound of the confines of my home.

My advice dear small child is to pick up a 10+ page book, and actually read something worthwhile. And please do inform your teacher of her pure insolence, it’s highly unbearable.

The word was sincerely,

Noah G. Richardson