Boots on the Wrong Feet
I'm forty-three years old, I teach sports medicine at a university, and I have published two papers on injury prevention, so you would…
Letters & Transcripts stories. Letters & Transcripts stories, from quick reads to long series. Reads run 11 to 14 minutes. Writers to know: Cypress Ledger, River Tale and Neon Chapter. Readers usually start with “Boots on the Wrong Feet” and “The Cork Market Letters”. Ranked by how many readers finish them. Some are free to read in full; the rest open with a free preview.
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I'm forty-three years old, I teach sports medicine at a university, and I have published two papers on injury prevention, so you would…
Letter 1 Dear James, You left the market paperwork on the kitchen table again, so I figured I'd write instead of texting.
The first letter arrived on a Tuesday, which I remember because Tuesdays are dead at the salon and I had time to stand at the window and…
I want to tell you about the strangest Saturday of my life, but you have to know I'm thirty-four years old and I still make bad decisions…
**Letter One** Dear Calvin, I'm writing this from the hotel lobby in Lamentin, which has the kind of furniture that pretends to be antique…
My name is Sally Farrell, I'm forty-four years old, and I have been dating Ken Carlisle for six years now.
You know those days where one small thing goes wrong and then everything else piles on top of it?
The whole thing started over a hatpin holder, which is not a sentence I ever expected to say out loud, and yet here I am, thirty-four…
I turned twenty-five on a Tuesday, and I closed the restaurant alone.
The cracked bird feeder has been sitting on my porch rail for six months now and I still haven't thrown it away.
I wrote the email at 11:40 on a Tuesday night, sitting at my kitchen table in socks and an old flannel shirt, and I deleted it three times…
Subject: so about last night Chris, Okay so I'm writing this at my kitchen table with coffee I have already reheated twice, and I am going…
I almost died in March, which is how this whole thing started, and I need to explain it from the beginning because if you found this tin…
I want to start by saying I'm fifty-four years old and I've been an electrician for thirty-one years, and I have never once done anything…
I am thirty-six years old and supposedly a professional, and I sat on the bed of a portside inn in Nova Scotia with a pen in my hand…
I wrote the email the night before the funeral, which I know sounds bad, but hear me out.
Dear Lamar, I am sixty-two years old and I am writing you a letter because if I had to say this out loud I would rather be swallowed by…
I am fifty-two years old and I let a forty-five year old woman talk me into emailing a total stranger.
Okay, so here's how I'm going to tell this, because telling it out loud in order makes my face hot and I have to work in twenty minutes.
I'm Sherrie, I'm twenty-two, and I moved up to the Mao Mountains seven months ago with one duffel bag and a job tightening the caps on…