Dear Patsy,
I am writing this letter as a last resort to try to get in touch with you and the rest of the family. I don’t know if you are aware of this, but phones are not working around here and the power has been out for the last couple of days, ever since the whole weirdness began with the bright green sky and the strong smell of ashes and the boiling sea. To make matters worse, cars simply refuse to start, so I have no way to get back home.
What baffles me the most is that nobody seems to know anything at all about what’s going on, not even the fellows at the fire department or the mayor himself. I keep striking up conversations with other hotel guests and local residents and it feels like we’re all completely in the dark as far as reliable information is concerned. The post office is the only public business that’s still open but I don’t think the mail truck will be dropping by to pick up letters any time soon, so who knows if this will ever reach you. Yet here I am, writing as a form of therapy, I guess.
It’s past midnight now and I can’t sleep because I keep hearing these strange sounds coming from somewhere at the beach outside my window. I am so very scared, scared beyond belief, and I just can’t stop crying but it is my utmost desire that you remain calm, since I find myself in perfect physical, mental and emotional shape. There is no valid reason for alarm. You should not alert any type of terrestrial authority, be it military or police. Furthermore, rest assured that these final lines are being generated by my own hands and are in no way the result of alien technology developed to simulate the way that humans communicate via the written word.
I salute you in a manner fitting to our relationship,
- Joanna Louise Harbinson
