An unsent letter

Dearest Brother,

Another Friday afternoon and I've only just woken up. I've a Venti pike roast coffee next to my propped up toes on the living room table and Skinny Love plays in rhythm to my tapping fingers on the keys as I write you this letter. The words you sent me this morning brought a whole new orchestra of tears streaming from my eyes, bitter at the thought that you weren't in the next room, and sweet knowing that our bond has yet to begin to fade. I suppose you're right when you said that God put us together, that male and female rarely live in the same atmosphere without a strew of complications, but in our relationship there was only brotherly love and a perfect match of obsessions and desires.
I miss you terribly, so very very terribly, but I know that in following his will for our lives you had to go.
Please think of me often and don't forget all the great adventures we had together, and will someday have a again.

With love,
Your sister.

Take one girl, her beautiful black Volvo 850, throw in a suicidal doe and you have a night of hell on your hands.

Story time. Johnathan and I were on our way home from Broadway, my spirits were high from the first decent night I've had in quite some time. The weather today had been perfect, which was in itself surprising since yesterday rain drops the size of golf balls were pouring from one end of the city to the other. We had spent most of the evening with good people, drinking good coffee, and talking about good books and good times. I should have known that that was far too much "good" for one night, especially with the way things have been lately. When it happened so unexpectedly, we were east bound driving maybe 65 (the legal speed limit) down JR Allen and out of absolutely nowhere (or from the cluster of native perennial grasses that stretch across the median) darted the largest female deer I've ever seen. In any other car we could have quite possibly been very badly injured or the car would have been totaled but in the Volvo she hit with nothing more than a loud thud that left me far more shaken then my car itself which didn't even budge an inch upon impact.
I couldn't breathe when I got out to survey the damage, and had to literally sit down after seeing the disaster that is my drivers side. But I knew there was no use in crying just yet, the police had to be called, as well as my parents and a tow truck and by the end of it all my head was swimming, my tears came in waves, and worry of getting it paid for since insurance wont pay for a thing stuck to my chest.

Apart for taking my keys to the body shop tomorrow I don't know what my next move is.
I can't afford a new car, my treasure looks like its been part a dirty battle (complete with blood stains), and I have no transportation for the next unknown span of time.

I need a vacation.