Could It Possibly Be a Date?

Thursday, February 9, 1950

46 West 83rd Street, Apt. 7B

New York City, NY

Dear Art,

Yes, it’s awfully lonely taking the subways by myself.

Shirl slept most of the day, and didn’t even show up at school until 3:30.  Darn her!  She sleeps all the time when she’s home, then comes here and keeps me up late talking.  The late nights are beginning to tell on me.

We saw two movies (double feature) tonight – Sinbad the Sailor and The Spanish Main.  Both were revivals.  You can tell from the names what they were like – but I enjoyed them anyway.

How’s everything and everybody in Southampton?  Don’t forget – your letters are my local newspaper.  Of

course, I don’t want them to be all news and nothing else.  I’m sure you know what I mean, because I feel that way about you, too.

I just told Shirl she should unmake the bed while I finish your letter. She said to write you that.  I don’t know why.

Art, dear, the clock’s just turning midnight and now I’m terribly tired.  I will be seeing you this weekend, won’t I?  Could it possibly be a date?  Until then,

All my love,

June

(On Saturday, Lincoln's Birthday and Valentine's Day.)

© 2011 Lee Price