Dear, Pen Pal
Hope things are well. Hope your government hasn't executed any in your family today. Hope you are alive to get this. I remember when you told me about the time they captured your uncle out of the toilet, suspecting him of aiding war fugitives with a tunnel. Then, they made him serve most of his sentence standing in the collection basin for the government army's latrines. How is he doing without feet, by the way?
Sometimes I feel that your limited access to the internet isn't so bad. It's not THAT great. But I'm pretty sure your loss of freedom kinda takes top priority.
The internet has done wonders for research and advertisement, and I've met some wonderful personalities, as well as a multitude of douchebags.
Bah. I fear I'm writing this letter at an ill time. The internet is not so bad, and much like alot, one's purpose defines the use.
Did they let you dig the corpses out of the ground before commanding you to plant the vegetables?
Everything here is well, though I feel this to be my Grandfather's last year alive. I'm ready for it, I've accepted it, but I really don't know what to expect until it happens. It wasn't like the last time he died. I mean, who would have thought; a busted gas vein, seeping gas through cracked earth, swirling within an air pocket, and Grampa just wanting to smoke a cigarette.
Damn, those paramedics were outstanding.
Must go, more work to do. Good luck, hope you're alive, and stay that way. Hopefully you can sneak out another letter soon. Cheers.
-David-
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