Dearest Paper, November 25, 1848
Thomas was his name. My lover of roof-tops & steamy sex in the rain; I rather
miss his way. I think it's mother who has caused this ache. I cannot seem to just let
them love me. I always wanna run the other way. Mother always said I wasn't too pretty;that boys didn't like plain.
She is at another meeting. She'll be home soon. I didn't want to go again. Not this time.
I am dog-tired of the ladies yacking about who will make the cake, after church
next Sun-day; I don't want any cake.
I want Thomas & roof-tops & steamy sex in the rain.
Love, Francine





Again you breathe her life. Love, C

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