Allister Cromley's Fairweather Belle (Bedtime Stories For Grownups To Tell)
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June 10th, 2009

6/10/2009

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One damp and dark morning the wind whistled and Allister awoke from his slumber and found a note at the foot of his bed. It read*:

Dear Guy With The Body,

I figured I would write to you before you took a bath and discovered for yourself. I have left. If you already took a bath or happened to notice in some other way that I have left, before you read this, well then, I am sorry. I just want you to know that it is not your fault. It is not you. It is me. You have never treated me with malice and, for that, I must thank you. You have even clipped my nail time and time again and, for that, I owe you. Lord knows, I could not do that myself. So, do not think of this as a slight towards you. That is not the case at all. 

It's just that there's a whole world out there and I want to see it all or as much of it as possible. Please do not take this personally, I beg you. Some big toes would be perfectly happy living on your foot and spending their entire life with you. And you deserve one of those. Take your other big toe, for example. He seems content and satisfied with life on your left foot. It's just not for me. I am a dreamer. I've got to see things, go places, meet other toes. And I know I will not be happy with a life in that sock of yours. 

Do not worry about me. I will be fine. I have a cousin who lives in a sandal in Guatemala. One of the middle toes passed away recently-gangrene, frostbite, smallpox, or something. But, regardless, now they've got some extra room. And she has been gracious enough to offer me a place on her foot. I am not sure how long I will be there or where I will go next. I suppose I will just see where the wind blows me. 

I sincerely wish you the best and hope this does not leave you unbalanced.

My Best,
Your Big Right Toe

*In actuality, Allister read. The letter more or less was read.
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