Good grief, Wigleaf—

Tying the tree up in cranberries here. Saw you in the window swishing your feathered scarf but it was just a pony. The girl on top was nearly grown & pinched its pinto back. Purchased a cornucopia of truffles. Saw you sneak in under my bed but it was just a raccoon with its cheeks stuffed full. Wigleaf, honey button, I cannot say all of town is waiting in the snow with its pink hands folded in stylish muffs but I made the reindeer pops & you ought to send a note at least. Thought we might edit carols from the puritan songbook & perform them bawdily at the upright having a fine festive time, Wigleaf, sugar plum—

Yours, Katy Gunn






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Read KG's story.

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