Status: Hiatus
Letters
Anything to get her away from me.
Ronnie,
Something personal about me? Oh Lord, I don’t even know where to begin. But I guess I should start with the basics, shouldn’t I?
My name is Willow, I am 27 years old and I am a kindergarten teacher. I know the stereotype of a kindergarten teacher is one of a boring older woman with glasses who wears her hair in a bun. But that is so far from me that if you were to go off of that stereotype, you would never find me in the lineup. I have long auburn hair that reaches the middle of my back that I always wear down, unless I’m at work. Then, and only then, is it in a braid.
Not that you really care about my hair, so… What is there to know about me that I could possibly tell you that wouldn’t make you think I was positively boring? Oh, I know what I can tell you. I've actually got a tattoo snaking up the outside of my right thigh.
What about you? Anything interesting you would like to tell me about?
Hope to hear from you soon!
Take care.
-Willow
A soft smile plays over my lips as I set the letter down onto my side. The happiness I felt when I realized that she had written back to me was surprising, even to myself. I'd wasted no time in opening the envelope and reading the contents of the letter; I'm really starting to look forward to what this girl has to say. I don't know her from Eve, but at the same time I feel like I'm beginning to know her on a personal level that not many people do.
I look up as I hear my front door open, my eyebrows furrowing together in confusion. A few seconds later, a girl who I have begun to spend all too much time with recently saunters into my living room. I sigh softly and fold the letter up, placing it back into the envelope and folding the envelope in half before stuffing it into my back pocket as I stand.
"What are you doing here, Alexa?" I grumble, padding across the room to her and stopping a few feet in front of her.
She looks up at me with her wide doe eyes, a wide grin in place on her features, "I told you I'd be over this afternoon, Ronnie," she states. I raise an eyebrow down at her as she places her hands onto my chest. "So I'm only keeping my promise to you."
"Okay," I scoff, rolling my eyes and gently pushing her hands off my chest. As her arms fall to her sides, I turn and walk towards the kitchen.
Her heels clack loudly on the hardwood floors of my house as she follows along behind me. I immediately head over towards the coffee pot and go about my business as I prepare myself to write some new songs for my band.
"When's your next concert?" Alexa asks, following me into the kitchen and moving to stand beside me.
"Why?" I question, turning to look at her out of the corner of my eyes and raising an eyebrow as I fill the coffeepot with water. She smiles innocently up at me and gives a subtle shrug of her shoulders. I already know the answer.
"Because I enjoy going to rock shows," she says as she clasps her hands in front of her.
I sigh softly and slowly shake my head, turning and again, walking away from her. "Next Sunday at the Santa Monica Pier," I mumble, walking back in the direction of the living room and calling back over my shoulder, "Now, if you don't mind, I have some writing I need to do."
Anything to get her away from me.
Something personal about me? Oh Lord, I don’t even know where to begin. But I guess I should start with the basics, shouldn’t I?
My name is Willow, I am 27 years old and I am a kindergarten teacher. I know the stereotype of a kindergarten teacher is one of a boring older woman with glasses who wears her hair in a bun. But that is so far from me that if you were to go off of that stereotype, you would never find me in the lineup. I have long auburn hair that reaches the middle of my back that I always wear down, unless I’m at work. Then, and only then, is it in a braid.
Not that you really care about my hair, so… What is there to know about me that I could possibly tell you that wouldn’t make you think I was positively boring? Oh, I know what I can tell you. I've actually got a tattoo snaking up the outside of my right thigh.
What about you? Anything interesting you would like to tell me about?
Hope to hear from you soon!
Take care.
-Willow
A soft smile plays over my lips as I set the letter down onto my side. The happiness I felt when I realized that she had written back to me was surprising, even to myself. I'd wasted no time in opening the envelope and reading the contents of the letter; I'm really starting to look forward to what this girl has to say. I don't know her from Eve, but at the same time I feel like I'm beginning to know her on a personal level that not many people do.
I look up as I hear my front door open, my eyebrows furrowing together in confusion. A few seconds later, a girl who I have begun to spend all too much time with recently saunters into my living room. I sigh softly and fold the letter up, placing it back into the envelope and folding the envelope in half before stuffing it into my back pocket as I stand.
"What are you doing here, Alexa?" I grumble, padding across the room to her and stopping a few feet in front of her.
She looks up at me with her wide doe eyes, a wide grin in place on her features, "I told you I'd be over this afternoon, Ronnie," she states. I raise an eyebrow down at her as she places her hands onto my chest. "So I'm only keeping my promise to you."
"Okay," I scoff, rolling my eyes and gently pushing her hands off my chest. As her arms fall to her sides, I turn and walk towards the kitchen.
Her heels clack loudly on the hardwood floors of my house as she follows along behind me. I immediately head over towards the coffee pot and go about my business as I prepare myself to write some new songs for my band.
"When's your next concert?" Alexa asks, following me into the kitchen and moving to stand beside me.
"Why?" I question, turning to look at her out of the corner of my eyes and raising an eyebrow as I fill the coffeepot with water. She smiles innocently up at me and gives a subtle shrug of her shoulders. I already know the answer.
"Because I enjoy going to rock shows," she says as she clasps her hands in front of her.
I sigh softly and slowly shake my head, turning and again, walking away from her. "Next Sunday at the Santa Monica Pier," I mumble, walking back in the direction of the living room and calling back over my shoulder, "Now, if you don't mind, I have some writing I need to do."
Anything to get her away from me.