Pals
August 23rd, 2020
Starring: Y (female, middle aged), X (male, teenager)
Y stands under a spotlight, in an armchair. She recites her letter aloud:
Y
Dear kind recipient,
I hope this finds you well. I know you do not know who I am, but I hope you find it within you to read me out.
I write to you from the East coast. I live a fairly cloistered life, without much rhyme or reason to it. I have been working from my home before working from home was all the craze. I have my routines. I have my likes and dislikes. I think about how my life could be better, but when I think about changing it, and wonder if it really would be worth the trouble. I won’t bore you with specifics (yet).
I write to you because I am alone, on the road to lonely. Most times, I like it that way, but in the moments I don’t, it’s painful beyond the most sadistic imagination. I have thought of many ways to remedy this pain, but every possibility appears to force me to uproot everything I enjoy about my solitude and go the opposite direction. I want a toe-dip into change, not a cannonball.
I don’t know your age or your story (yet), but I know I come from an era where I have reverence for how people used to communicate. Even now, non-video phone calls feel like conjuring simpler times. Frankly, I’ve come to miss letters and penmanship. Using every part of my hand, not just my fingertips. I’ll go to museums and look into glass cases, marveling at the years of correspondences people used to have between each other. How exciting that must be, to send something away and really have to wait for a response. It sits right in my soul.
But truth be told, despite my deepest desires, few people come to mind when I entertain who I might correspond with. No one feels distant enough from me for the act to feel exciting. So what you are holding is the product of my solution. A map of the West coast, a random point, another random point, a random address. I don’t know you, or who you are, but I know you are human, and you may understand. In the case that you do, write me back at the listed address. I’ve even included a stamp in the envelope, if you don’t have one.
Away we go.
I eagerly await your response.
Sincerely yours,
Y
The spotlight goes out on Y, and goes up on X, sitting on his bed.
He finishes reading the last line and looks up:
X
What the actual fuck.