Big thanks to those who reviewed! Now, on to letter #2!


Dear Molly,

I walked into the Brass Bar today for an early dinner. It was the second time I saw you.

You were sitting by yourself in the far corner. You were drinking a glass of orange juice. Your shirt was the brightest of yellows. Your eyes were the most dazzling of browns. Your hair still smelled like strawberries.

I sat down at your table. You pretended not to notice me, but I could tell you saw me.

I said, "Hi."

You asked, "What do you want?"

I started to talk to you. I rambled about axes and the forest and dogs and the weather and anything I could think about. I was knee deep in an endless pit of words.

You nodded halfheartedly. I don't think you were totally interested. You seemed more interested in our waiter. Chase. You kept looking at him wistfully as he cooked. And when he came to take our orders, you stuttered.

I didn't really notice it until today, but I never really liked him that all that much. Those prune colored eyes, that blotchy complexion, the scrawny muscles. I bet I could chop down twice as many trees as he could. And my new found dislike of him has nothing to do with the way that you looked at him tonight. Nothing whatsoever.

Although I do wish that you would look at me that way.

You finished your dinner. I wasn't hungry, so I drank my Coconut Cocktail. You got up, and you said that you were leaving. I told you that I didn't want you to go. You turned around to go outside, and I followed.

Once we were alone outside, I asked if you might kiss me.

You asked if I was insane.

"One day, Molly, you will kiss me!" I promised you as you began to walk off. You just kept on walking without looking back.

What you don't realize is that I never break my promises.

Yours (hopelessly),

Luke