FRANK WESTCOTT - THE POET*THE SINGER*THE LYRIC MAKER*THE SHORT STORY WRITER

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TRANSITION 3:
And the raven ~ Had pecked his eye out
 
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A LETTER TO SALLY
Copyright Frank Westcott, 2018. All rights reserved.
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       I read this story in the early 1990’s at a Canadian Author’s Association/Warkworth Writers Weekend. I was invited by former Canadian Author’s Association president, Eleanor McEachern to lead a workshop on short story writing, and all workshop leaders read from their work the night before to a packed house. I called my workshop ‘WRITING FROM THE INSIDE OUT'. Still a good workshop. Some writers had breakthroughs during their time with me. Very gratifying. I like to make people laugh, so it was fun to read this story. Then, oddly, in October, 2017 while on a Canadian bus tour of music haunts in Tennessee, I printed it out and our tour guide read the story to our group as a happy diversion on the road! Amazes me how creative stuff finds its ‘life’ in the oddest happenings sometimes.
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A LETTER TO SALLY

    "Hi!" I'm looking after Sally's place while she's gone. I like Sally. She's just like Cher, except Sally's a blonde and not a brunette and Sally doesn't go on T.V. in her underwear. Sally's never had her picture on the cover of National Inquirer either. Sally knows a lot about smells. She work's at Sera’s in the perfume department.
        There's not much to looking after Sally's place. There's just Dundee, her pet crocodile who lives in the bathroom, and talking to her plants. She told me to talk to her plants everyday.
        I didn't really know what to say to them, so I read to them. I started with Anne of Green Gables then went on to Anne of Avonlea, and finally Moby Dick. Now, I just leave the T.V. on all the time.
        Hope Sally brings some perfume back with her. Her place is starting to smell.
        I'm at Sally's now. Got a letter to leave on her kitchen table. Took me all day to write. I'll put the letter in the center of the table beside the envelope, so she can't miss it.
        Let's see what did I say to her?
        Ah, yes...

Dear Sally,
                        I hope you found your father at the monastery.
                        My psychiatrist, Dr. Smith, says I caught claustrophobia last week when I got stuck in your closet.
                        I forgot to feed Dundee while you were away. He ate your shoe. I hope he didn't eat you before you left.
                        You left your dentures in the glass on the counter.
                        Yesterday, Dr. Smith dissented me with Doctor Sigmud Froide. Doctor Smith said Doctor Froide said I have Eatipus Duplex. So, I'm renting a flat now. I'm going to see Doctor Heddy-Bender tomorrow. I hope I don't catch Flatipus Oneplex from her.
                         I bought six pairs of cotton socks from Harry. I got two blue pair, two black pair, and two white pair. The socks have toe holes in them, so I won't have to take them off to clean my nails. I soaked Harry's socks in bleach all week. The smell's almost gone. So are the socks. I'm going to the Laundromat this afternoon to watch the rest of them dry. Can you bring me some perfume when you get back?
                        The plant in the big pot by the door died.
                        I hope Dundee doesn't have babies while you're gone. You know how I hate anything with teeth. One of the happiest days of my life was the day you got your dentures.
                        I hope having a flat helps. Maybe someday I'll be able to drink out of the glass with your teeth in it.
                       Can you mail this when you get back?
                                    Love,
                                                              Alfred
 

          Hope Sally likes my letter. Better get to the Laundromat and get my socks dried. The ones I have on are starting to fall off my feet. Maybe I should buy a pair of shoes... See ya!
 
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 THE END or THE BEGINNING, SOON, OF THE NEXT ONE ! ! 
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THE BACKGROUND for A LETTER TO SALLY: I am not sure what triggered the idea for this story. Was probably thinking about my grandmother & her dentures she used to leave in a glass on her kitchen counter. AND how I ated, no hated, that. Dreamt of those teeth coming to life. A nightmare!! Story creation might have, likely was, a time I was checking a girlfriend’s apartment while she was on a holiday somewhere. Don’t know if she had teeth that came out or not ! She did have a plant though. It died. Didn’t have an alligator. I saw anyway. Never checked her bathtub! Bought her a new plant and a toothbrush just in case.
 

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