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Dear Whispy Sprinkles of Snow:

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I bet you think you are funny, you frosty bastards. I sure didn’t think it was funny to slip on a patch of ice that was well hidden beneath you during my run this evening. I have a bruise on my ass the size of a Perry Como 45 thanks to you. No matter how careful I was, I guess you got one past me. The worst part was the slow motion propulsion of my rotundas ass through the chilly night air as I came crashing to the ground in what felt like slow motion that I could not control. That same air that I find a constant source of brisk refreshment suddenly felt cold and mocking as paused to catch my breath before scuttling to my feet and dusting off my fanny and bruised ego. I will particularly relish devouring you and your kind with the snow blower when the time comes.

-wishing we had six months of autumn and no winter at all.



About Bridget

One day, Johnny Cash said that he was "...gunna write a tear stained letter..." If it was good enough for The Man in Black, its good enough for me. I love the idea of a letter and, though I send and receive so few of them in my daily life, I still feel that they are a great way to communicate. Especially for someone who has nerves that can sometimes malfunction. A letter allows me to say everything that I need and want to say. I am in love with letters. That makes every letter that I pen a "love" letter. Even that nasty one that I wrote to my X-best friend in the seventh grade. <3

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