Antonio's Letter
Natasha's Letter

 

 

 

 

Natasha, you don’t ever want to feel like this. You want to always keep those bright eyes and that bushy tail, like MGD used to say about me. You don’t ever want to go through what I’ve been through, feel like I feel everyday when I wake up. You feel like faded graffiti on a building they about to tear down—something a man worked hard on to try to make the world a beautiful place, and nobody appreciated it. Or cracked glass in the street that used to be something pretty, but the cars keep driving over it like it never really matter or was never anything whole and real. But I guess you wouldn’t know nuthin about that. Or maybe I’m wrong. Maybe you would.

Don’t forget me,
Antonio

Here I am, staying up late writing to you. Antonio, I’m going to have to wrap this letter up soon. I gotta do my science and English homework, plus I think I’m gonna go ahead and apply to that thing Madame Girard want me to apply to. I think that it would be a good learning experience for me, like she said. I never really been too far from New York. Been to Albany and Philly to visit some of my relatives, and I been down to VA and North Carolina. But shit, that’s it. Imagine going all the way over the ocean to Paris. It’s like 100,000 miles and it takes about eight hours on a plane. I never even been on a plane before. I think it would be amazing to look down and see the tops of all the buildings in Harlem, then New York, then the United States, and then all of a sudden the whole world. Laniece flew one time, to Disney World with her church, and she told me it looks like the sky reversed itself. Like it all of a sudden switched places with the ground. She said that’s what people mean when they say they’re walking on air, because when you look out of a window and see the clouds below you, you feel like nothing on Earth can touch you. That’s how I want to feel right now, like nothing in the world can touch me. (Except you).

Love,
Natasha

©Kalisha Buckhanon

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