June 2012
1 post
8 tags
Dear John,
It’s been one year, one day, five hours, seventeen minutes, thirty-two seconds since I died.
How can you still not have figured it out?
-SH
May 2012
1 post
12 tags
Dear John,
I saw you, from the street. I can tell from your collar that you’ve met someone. I can tell from the way you carry yourself that you’ve not bothered to sort out the return of your psychosomatic limp.
And I can tell from the lines on your face that you think I’m definitely dead.
I’m sorry, John. I’m so sorry.
-SH
April 2012
1 post
9 tags
Dear John,
I can’t sleep tonight. Too many unsolved problems keeping me up. Too many impossible thoughts. Are you kept awake too, by the doubts in your head? Do you lie awake at night in your bed? Or have you moved on? Are you all right?
-SH
March 2012
7 posts
10 tags
Dear John,
Can you really not figure it out? You still don’t know I’m alive? It’s so obvious! Don’t be DULL!
-SH
10 tags
Dear John,
Pass me my phone, would y- …oh. Nevermind.
-SH
7 tags
Dear John,
I need a word that’s more sincere than ‘sorry’.
-SH
9 tags
Dear John,
I’ve been out of milk for over a month. Logically, I know it won’t replace itself - but I got so used to sending you for it that getting it myself seems… wrong. I still find myself buying your favourite biscuits.
-SH
10 tags
Dear John,
The 007 movies are insipid. But I keep putting them on anyway.
-SH
10 tags
Dear John,
Do you still live in the flat? I wouldn’t think less of you if you’d moved. I find it hard enough living in a flat without you with you alive. I can’t imagine doing it thinking you were dead.
-SH
12 tags
Dear John,
I hope this is the first and last time I ever have to lie to you. You deserve to know the truth. So, I’ll write you these letters, even if I never send a one.
-SH
