Edward Doesn't Write Me All Summer Long
Dear Readers,
What happened? Edward promised to write me every day! It's been two months. It's August, 1915, two months after I said good-bye to him. So far I have received no letter. Has he forgotten about me? Has he found somebody else, perhaps a Greek girl he met at Gallipoli? When will I hear from him again if ever.
There is nothing to do here except take care of my parents' roses along the driveway. All I do all day is walk up and down the drive to the mailbox to look for letters from my fiance. I carry the rose pruners with me. My frustration makes these the most perfectly pruned roses ever. It's enough to make me wish I had gone down on the Lusitania.
Nothing is worth it without Edward!
SIncerely yours,
Dora Benley
What happened? Edward promised to write me every day! It's been two months. It's August, 1915, two months after I said good-bye to him. So far I have received no letter. Has he forgotten about me? Has he found somebody else, perhaps a Greek girl he met at Gallipoli? When will I hear from him again if ever.
There is nothing to do here except take care of my parents' roses along the driveway. All I do all day is walk up and down the drive to the mailbox to look for letters from my fiance. I carry the rose pruners with me. My frustration makes these the most perfectly pruned roses ever. It's enough to make me wish I had gone down on the Lusitania.
Nothing is worth it without Edward!
SIncerely yours,
Dora Benley
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