Dear Fate,
How’s it going? How’s the fams? Kids?
Ok, I’m gonna cut to the chase. Stop it. It’s annoying. I understand that sometimes you can’t help it… that it’s just what you do, but come on… stop. Dammit… I’m tired… I’m having trouble staying awake.
Please enclose a new job based in Los Angeles, or a moderately sized Lotto jackpot.
Thanks.
Best Regards,
-earl.
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I wrote a similar letter to Fate, but it seemed like she wasn’t really listening. At least you’re since in this letter to her.
my existentialist side appreciates the title of this piece.