Dear Karissa, Where have you gone? I miss you. I know I agreed to cover for you, live your life while you were gone, but I thought you were only taking off for a couple of days. Not the whole semester. I mean, I know you've stopped in now and again and I appreciate that. You came to the music preschool last week to play with Leyla and Niko and all the other kids. And there is that certain boy who can sometimes tempt you to come back. But then you disappear as soon as you arrived. I'm pretty good at pretending to be you, but my disguise is slipping. This morning Sister Kenney commented that my teaching lacks passion and commitment. If it had been you teaching, there would have been passion and energy up the wazoo. And it's only a matter of time before Dr. Shumway notices, since I simply don't play the piano as well as you do. I don't do school as well as you do. I'm terribly shy and can't even handle basic social situations as well as you. I just ca...
“I want to feel all there is to feel, he thought. Let me feel tired, now, let me feel tired. I mustn't forget, I'm alive, I know I'm alive, I mustn't forget it tonight or tomorrow or the day after that.” --Ray Bradbury, Dandelion Wine