Listening to:
The Kinks - Dead End Street

Thursday, January 30th, 2003

An Open Letter
to the dreamy English boy in Bible class

I know that we don't technically know each other, but I thought we had a deal. I would lug my Bible all over campus and sit politely in class, and you would provide some much needed pretty scenery. You would ignore me entirely, and I would look in your direction and think of England, imagining that everyone there was as pretty and as smart as you. Our understanding was simple, and it worked.

But today you had to wreck it all.

You didn't come to class. You skipped, and I was left all alone in an intellectually stimulating but otherwise boring class. You left me to fend for myself among all the theology majors and "mature" students and freaky hippy kids. I thought we had something special. I thought we had a little alliance, you and I. Us normal kids versus the weirdos taking the class for kicks. Us true intellectuals versus the kids in the back row who made paper airplanes out of the handouts. Us kindred spirits verus the barbarians.

But you skipped. For shame, Dreamy English Boy! And what were you thinking? You skipped the class on Revelations! That's just wrong. So wrong. Now you're not going to know how the world will end. Well, it serves you right for breaking our silent agreement.

I expect to see you punctually at 4:00 next Tuesday. Please conduct yourself as usual, sitting a few seats in front of me with your mussy blonde hair and your rumpled duffle coat. Take notes, bob your head in understanding, and answer questions humbly as is your custom. I will be looking out for you, as usual. Do not look out for me. In fact, do not acknowledge this letter at all. I will happily forget this break in our alliance so long as everything returns to normal, and you return to class.

Yours in secret,
Emily

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