I must admit I was quite surprised when I got your letter in the mail yesterday. At first, I didn’t know what to do. I just stood there, outside the rickety green post box that’s been painted too many times with the envelope in my hand, peering down the dirt road hoping that you might have delivered it yourself and would appear again at any moment.
Of course, at the same time I hoped that I wouldn’t see you standing there, looking all apologetic in your too-big clothes and your hair that could never quite settle down.
Juliet, I want you to know that your letter upset me. I haven’t read it yet, I only copied the address in the top-right corner, you were always proper and meticulous – as if that would make up for you being a cold-hearted bitch – but you upset me because you went against my wishes.
Last time we spoke, or rather, I Facebooked you but you never responded, I told you never to contact me ever again.
Now I know that you are a clever lass well acquainted with words like “never” and “ever”, so imagine my surprise when I saw your name on the return address.
Don’t think that I am curious about you. I am not interested in the slightest, and I will not, I repeat not, read your letter.
I just won’t.