Dear Ruby,
There are lots of red sunsets here, the kind you love. Maybe even more than your falling stars, which didn't seem possible. We only saw one once together, it's when you told me that you loved me. It's when I kissed you and pretended not to taste the cigarettes and alcohol. It's the first time I felt safe in your fragile arms.
Do you ever think about red sunsets?
My doctor tells me it's a 'trigger'.
Something that reminds me of the trauma.
I always tell them it wasn't trauma.
But it's getting harder and harder to argue lately.
Please hurry.
I'm not sure I can hold on much long.
Love,
Roseline
YOU ARE READING
Letters From Roseline
General Fiction"The other day, I was wondering, do you still draw me?"
