Tansy Undercrypt
Author, Illustrator, Purveyor of Doom & Whimsy

Words

July 27th 2015 in Blather, Microfiction

“I told Robert to mail these out posthumously so, TA DA, the fat lady is thusly singing,” the letter said. “I want you to remember me going out the way I came in – making a fuss and looking for the free drinks, my cheeks rosy and my hair Hollywood perfect.” “Don’t let yourself dwell too much in reality,” it continued, “because life is too precious for that. Who cares if your letter from Hogwart’s never came? That doesn’t mean there’s no magic out there. Go find some. Better yet, put your big pants on and go make some!” There was a Page 2. “Seriously, I have some regrets and I wish I didn’t. That’s what kept me up at night when the pain meds stopped working. I feel obligated to confirm that you don’t wish you’d worked longer or harder at the end; you do spend at least one evening thinking about sex and wondering how Heaven’s going to top that.” The handwriting was shaky and growing harder to read. “It’s hard to stay on topic now (don’t say ‘it always was’ or I will fucking haunt you). Regrets. I regret that I could not adequately convey how great you are … in such an obvious and meaningful way that you believed it to your core.” Here, the scrawl turned to block printing. “Let your remarkable self out of its prison of judgment and live, okay? Do it today. Right now. For me. Here’s where I get to say that I will be watching. Love always.”

In loving memory of Diane Eckert.


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