Tangible Schizophrenia


Dear John I: Spring Dreams

Author: Guede Mazaka
Rating: G
Pairing: Gen. Hartigan and Nancy.
Feedback: Good lines, bad ones, and why you liked/disliked them.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Notes: Title and quote from here.
Summary: From the first year.


ďSail on, white ships.
Let me have spring dreams.
Let me count these reminiscences like moneyĒ
--Carlovingian Dreams, Carl Sandburg

* * *

Dear Hartigan,

Did I spell your name right? I am working on my spelling with a dictshunionary and I tried to look it up, but your name wasnít in it. My dad says it is in the newspaper a lot but I am not allowed to see the newspaper.

Tomorrow I will get up early and get it anyway. I want to spell your name right. I donít think it is fair if I get it wrong. That isnít polite. So I will learn how to spell it.

I know my handwriting is bad, but I am working on that. I practice every day with a pencil and paper I steal from the trashcan. My handwriting is bad but it used to be worse. It used to look like a chicken ran across the page. Now it looks like a chicken thought about how it ran across the page. That is what my mom says.

Are you eating all right? I donít know what the food is like in prison but I hope it tastes okay. It canít be worse than my momís tuna cassirole. I never eat that. I hide it in my napkin. I hope you have napkins. They can be really useful. I wish I could send you some of my momís apple pie. Her pie is very good. It isnít bad like her cassirole.

I donít know if you can see the sun, but it is shining now. It is very yellow, but there isnít just yellow in it. There is orange and red, and the grass is bright green. It leaves green marks on my knees when I sit on it for too long. I like my legs with green marks on them, but my mom doesnít. I think it is pretty.