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My Prodigal Victoria.

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In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Audience of One.”

Dearest Victoria,

You were an embolden odd little girl. That’s probably because I understand that’s not what you want to hear right off the bat, but by god was it true. While I admired your vigour, I couldn’t ever understand what kept it up. Why it kept up. Mostly because you spent all your time complai I understand some of our instances were fuelled by this notion, and I didn’t realize that as a child. That I regret. We were bestย decent friends.

Also, I’m sorry I never understood why you wanted to keep contact. You called at least once a week and it was thoroughly annoy I was nine. Please don’t hold that against me. Today if you called, which I somehow feel that you would if you found my contact information, I’d be very grateful and happy that you remembered me. I promise I wouldn’t come up with an excuse to get off the line. Rather, I’d be enthused by the prospect of learning how you turned out. I’m sure you’re a lovely young lady who still dotes to hear from her best friends daily. You did have class. Also I was really jealous of your long, blonde hair and the way that your mom tied it in a nice bun some mornings. Oh, and that ruby red necklace that you owned.

You were the first friend that taught me how to cheat during a jump-rope competition. Well probably because you cheated against me

How could I forget you?

Yours truly,

A Sophisticate.

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