Dear Stacy (2nd letter from Derrell)
Sorry about the delayed response but I’ve been getting some weird letters from your dad and dog. I don’t think I should ever come over your house again. Ever.
It’s gotten to the point where if I see the little red flag on the mailbox is up, letting me know I have mail, I feel a sense of dread swallow me up.
By the way, how big does a mailbox need to be to no longer qualify as a mailbox? If you put a 20’ storage container where the mailbox used to sit, would it be considered a mailbox?
I guess it comes down to whether or not it has a slot to put mail into.
And if the mailman is willing to drop it into a 20’ storage container.
I would ask my mailman but his was another of the weird letters I recently received. He went as far as to infer that I was the author of this story. Which was confusing because he went to great lengths to call the other people involved “living, breathing people” just before mentioning “my readers.” Obviously I’m not writing this or your letter to me would have been much sexier.
And the letter from your dad much less gay. Super less gay. Not even a bit gay.
And your dog… where to start?
Anyway, I’m still open to the idea of drinks but we’ll have to meet far away from your house.