"Nobody minds having what is too good for them."
August 21, 2014 Dear Jane, Although my letters to you may not arrive as often as I would prefer, I do find myself writing to you almost every day inside my head. Do not be alarmed, gentle readers, for strange voices do not plague my mind, but I have found that it is a true comfort to have someone to tell my thoughts to other than just my own (rather empty) mind. For this, I must thank you, Jane, for time and time again you allow me to confide in you! Now then, where to begin? First and foremost, I would be remiss if I did not relay my feelings of utter astonishment that today is already the twenty-first of August in the year of our Lord, two-thousand and fourteen. How did this come to pass, Jane? I am to leave Springboro, Ohio in approximately eleven days and I simply cannot account for where the time has gone this summer. It has been such a lovely (although eventful) summer here and I confess that I find it rather difficult to imagine life in the bustling city of New York