Day 5: Fragments Flying in the Wind

Oh, it has fallen right in that pile of wet leaves. It’s fragments of some old paper. Maybe tissue paper. Whose is it?

Wait, it is a letter from Christmas past. No, that is not possible. Pasts don’t write letters. But letters write pasts.

Some of the words are obliterated. . . .  It looks like. . . .

Dear Santa

My mommy is so sad. Can you bring her a cuddly, soft toy? So she does not have to sleep all by herself in that big bed. Maybe a fish would be good.

Daddy liked to fish but now Daddy is gone. I don’t know where Daddy has gone but Mommy says he is never coming back. She says he is in a better place like over the rainbow.

Thank you Santa. I have been an extra good girl ever since Daddy flew over the rainbow.  Is that where you live Santa?

I hope you found the brownies I left.

From Millie with the long brown pigtails.

I wonder what time zone this was from?  Who is or was Millie.  I guess I will have to imagine her life.

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