letters to july no. 2 || 01

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Dear July,

Today I took off my cotton sheets and replaced them with the flannel ones of my childhood. Not by choice, I assure you; as I watched Magic in The Moonlight, a favourite summer film of mine, I accidentally spilled licorice tea all over my summer sheets. So, into the hamper they went, and my backup sheets– these floral beauties– replace them temporarily.

I recently rediscovered this sheet set while looking for something else entirely (this oft is how I find things). The sight of the cream-coloured cloth with little roses scattered atop reminded me of sleeping on the top bunk of the bunk bed I shared with my sister; arguing and sharing fears and dreaming with her all in the same evening, of books crammed between the wood and the mattress, of the light that clamped to the side of the bunk that was frequently on hours later than my bedtime because I liked to read when no one else was awake. They remind me of who I was when I was young and who I am today, and how proud I am of both of them.

It’s awfully late, so I better sign off for now.

It’s good to see you again, July. I missed you.



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