Looking Back Over My Shoulder

You may have read recently on the whqttt.com journal that el stoopido here left a box of historical love letters from girlfriends past on the marital bed last week. Explained hurriedly to Mrs. Sergei (who knew about them, but had forgotten) that I'd rescued them from a flooding loft the night before.

The strangest thing about the whole affair was what happened next.

The very next day, the main writer of all those letters, L.R., a girlfriend from 20 years ago this year, suddenly wrote to me once more. Whoosh. Actually, it was on the subject of a missing boy from the Tsunami disaster, whose parents she was trying to find, but that did not lessen the shock of getting an email that day.

After a couple of mails to-ing and fro-ing between us, L.R. sent a current picture of herself and her sister, looking just as I remembered the pair of them, but minus the Gothic garb and make-up. Brought lots of memories back. Particularly, it reminded me of the time when we exchanged small gifts: she sent scented notepaper, and I sent back a small bag of Blue Stratos talc, at the time my favourite. I never knew that her mother found this sweet-smelling gift, and managed to convince herself that I was trafficking cocaine...only a timely intervention and a hurried explanation prevented the matter from going to the authorities.

It's so wonderfully cathartic speaking to old friends - you can just be the person you were all those years ago, without the cares and worries that play such large parts in your modern life. It's also pleasing to know that someone you cared about found happiness in her life, just as I have in mine.

So thanks L.R, and keep in touch.

Sergei