You are my best friend. We'd go fishing, hunting, we'd tell stories and we'd drink (at least before my bad liver and your trick back) till we saw stars in the daylight. You confided in me. You told me you were scared of the dark and I listened and was there for you. But then when you were home by yourself, I would sneak on over to your fuse box and disconnect the whole thing! You'd start crying and I'd just hoot all the way back home. It brought me supreme joy for many years. I know you thought it was ghosts, but it wasn't. It was me. And I actually kind of feel bad. Don't be mad at me, or else I'll come back as a ghost and really freak you out.
Henry Adam Wood
Dear Rosie Lopez,
Miss Rosie, you worked for me from April the 12th 2003 to June 10th 2005. And in that time I never spoke a word to you. You would clean around me, say "gracias" when I paid you, and bring me my supper on time at always the right temperature. I fired you without notice and you were probably wondering why… NO HABLO ESPANOL SENORITA. BECAUSE THIS IS AMERICA. LEARN ENGLISH. OPEN A BOOK AND TEACH YOURSELF THE LANGUAGE OF THIS COUNTRY, YOU NO DOUBT, ILLEGALLY CROSSED INTO.
Henry Adam Wood
Dear Major Jeffries,
As I lay here, on my death bed, I am filled with memories of my time in your command. You may have thought I questioned your post, but we both came out alive, though not many of those in my regiment did. And you lost your leg. Shot your own leg off… trying to kill a mouse was it? I'm sorry for one, I was not around to see that. Your leadership always affirmed my beliefs… In nepotism.
May the ground be ever uneven at your feet, you hobbling idiot,
Private Henry Adam Wood
Dear Rebecca (Hill) Masterson,
I am sorry to tell you dearest Rebecca that I have reached my final days. I am sitting on my bed now, my feet chilled and my skin dry, I haven't had a great bowel movement in a few months and I think back on our time together. We were so young then. How blonde your hair was. How thin you were. How I loved you. How you left me for that hulking idiot Maxwell on the day before our senior dance. How he got you pregnant that night. How you had to be sent away to "camp". How all of a sudden you had a new...
Dear Sister Cathleen,
I am sorry to inform you that I am dying. News of my illness has brought upon much sadness amongst my friends and my acquaintances are full of remorse for not knowing me better.
I am writing you as a courtesy to inform you of my coming memorial and also to apologize sincerely for my behavior in your 5th grade classroom, but now as I reach my end I can honestly say that you smelled like cheese. And I hate cheese.
I hope this letter finds you alive, only so that you may take my advice and bathe before you enter the...
INT. THOMAS' APARTMENT -The apartment is designed well, but is disheveled.
Thomas, a man about 30/40 years old, messy hair, nice build in a relaxed dress at home, works on his computer.
His face squints as he decides the correct button to press.
No, no, no, no, no. This cannot be happening.
He shakes the computer slightly. He shakes it another time, slightly more aggressive. He hits the "enter" button, the "esc" button. None of them work.
A sad face comes up on the computer, which shuts it down.
Location: Fargo North Dakota and parts of Minnesota to lake country.
Bio: I am a plus model and Nyu acting graduate. I am a writer and an aspiring filmmaker.
About the Record:
I was home for a few days and My friend from highschool Kassle had been posting pictures online and I wanted to take a few photos of her. I went over to her house to style and she had a huge closet of amazing clothes and the story just came to me. I saw everything and I had just...