Tuesday, March 7, 1950
20 Cooper Street
Dear June,
I hope you got a letter yesterday but if you didn’t it’s all my fault. I stuck your letter in my pocket this noon and then forgot to mail it. I know – just like a man. I mailed it tonight but you may not get it till you get this one. You’ll forgive me this once won’t you, sweetheart?
I’m glad you had a good time Saturday. Imagine after telling me to take it easy and not drink too much on Saturday night, you go out and drink rye and gin and get home at 1:30! All I had was a couple of beers and got home by midnight.
The days are creeping by slowly, my darling. It’s four days and three nights now. I love you so much, you know that I do. Look out I don’t kiss you when you come to the door Friday night.
Not much to tell you about today. I’ve been reading a book all evening – The Horse’s Mouth by Joyce Carey. It’s about a crazy artist. It’s a very funny book in an odd and depressing sort of way.
I guess I’ll “hit the rack.” I’m loading up on sleep now, since I don’t plan on getting much this weekend (if I can help it). I’m thinking of you and missing you.
Lots of love,
(Tomorrow – when you tire of me...)
© 2011 Lee Price
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