Again I have to say I am sorry. Stomach, vomit, and you know what else continue over and over every day. This has been my life since I last wrote to you. I don’t dare tell Ima I am feeling a little better. She will insist that I( do my chores and again and I don’t have the strength. I really don’t. It’s not a lie – but she won’t see it that way.
Can I tell you another secret? The other morning I was walking toward the trenches yet again, when I really nice looking boy passed by. He tossed his head of long brown hair streaked white in places the sun chose to honor. He waved at me and I waved back. He smiled.
He must be a visitor. No one in our village would do that. He was so friendly. But let’s face it. No one in our village wants me. Not one man or boy. They all believe there is something wrong with me. That I am weird because I look like I am talking to the air when I speak to my guide, Sandalphon. I must face the fact that I will never have a husband. Or children. I am doomed to be alone.