Hi Sweetest:
After an even twenty minutes of emitting nautical phrases about my pen’s mechanisms, were off. Besides the new ink, (Quink, directions say blue-black and flush pen before using. Now I’m asking, does this faded falacy resemble blue black?)
I find the new paper is not exactly what I had in mind at purchase time. The letterhead isn’t at all necessary you know, that is unless this were a recruiting office. We both have a vague idea of my service status I believe.
To get off on a nicer subject, we have at last played a third-rater. Not the feature, just the short. The aforesaid one-reeler concerned college songs. The S.C. band played them all, but had real shots of the campuses. (last word was campuses). The favorite one was dear old Alma Mater, the mighty Washington U. Had pictures of the campus, including those sweat shops and dens of agony, the stadium, Blaine Hall, (no show of my liberty exit) the chimes and Lake Wash. The band played the local boola-boola and I went back those several centuries to spend my time with you. Every letter brings you closer hon, I love you more and more. At night, that is almost every night, I lay on a bench outside after lights-out and gaze at their pale brilliance, smoke and think about you. In my sub-conscious mind I know your thousands of miles away, but when my eyelids droop, each gentle breath of wind feels like a caress from thee. I open them again, always hoping that my dreams are true, but always the same, not Sweetie, just the cool breezes. Someday, someday, possibly many tomorrows from this date those old dreams will become a reality. (The sentiment lingers, but the body is hurt; I just let my cigarette burn hell out of one of my widdle fingers.)
Tis Sweetie I dream, love and long for.
Always
Kenny Lee
Kenneth Lee Martin SM2/C
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