Dear Jared

Well if it makes you feel any better. I'm quite sick. I've caught the cold, or really, it has caught me and if you were where I am right now, you would find me bundled up in 3 jumper like tops, trekkies, socks and with a mug of honey-lemon on my desk.

Like you, I'm not one who likes to admit to being sick. Until I cannot anymore. This is a major flaw my parents have always bugged me about. I definitely wasn't the toughest child in the sandpit. I was strong, but I wasn't the strongest.

I have always valued your honesty. And I have always valued your opinions. Except, sometimes I still dont know when you're serious or just a gummy bunny trying to be funny. Maybe I'll discover that slowly. It bugs me that you're holding something back but that's okay. There's always the next letter hey?

...

I find that I tend to be extremely honest in my letters. Something about writing them down to someone forces me to bare all which can be kind of scary.

I don't really know if I feel closest to God when I need him most or when life is dandy.

I guess for me, at least the time that I'm going through now, makes me realize that I need God all the time. It's not a when I'm weak thing... it's like I'm ALWAYS weak.

It's like I cannot get enough. I'm always wanting more... more of God in my life because that is a good thing.

Maybe in terms of your story on magic, I'm always desperate. I'm always wanting, needing magic. I'm just that sort of person.

That said, sometimes I hardly see the magic in my day. Somedays it takes me forever to think of something to be thankful for. Somedays, I think that I'm making the magic up or whatever.

But I keep wishing.

And hoping.

And praying.


Yours,

Kris

Pressure

Pressure

I am chucked into the water. It’s 27 degrees. Temperate. Mild. Bearable. Until it rises.

I notice the difference. I feel it-the heat creeping around me, lurking. It teases me and I cannot do anything about it. If only I had hands.

It taps me here and then there. It’s 70 degrees now. I start to worry. But my worry only adds to my affliction.

The temperature continues to escalate and the water is no longer still. A tiny bubble floats upwards. And then another. And then too many to count. I feel the heat in me now.

It is 100 degrees. And I persevere. It is no longer temperate or mild. And I’m not sure if I can bear it. I will soon find out.

One, two, three, ten minutes go by. I am still here. I emerge the winner. I haven’t cracked under the pressure. Instead, I am tougher still. I am harder, stronger on the inside.

Yet it puzzles me. That after all that pressure that I have taken, the heat I have endured, I am left to cool. Then I am taken out of the pot, cracked open and finally, they have me for breakfast.

Life’s a cruel joke.

--

A short one this time. Oh and I'm supposed to come up with the next topic yes? Okay well, I'm just being really random but here it is:

Alice in Wonderland

Knock yourselves out.