#openers

It feels primitive and pitiful to say it, but I’m a primitive and pitiful person.”

Dear Mr. Santiago

Good evening Santiago

Salutations Giovanni

A disgruntled groan passed from Augustine’s lips. He’d been at this for hours, writing and rewriting openers, until the worktable was overthrown by balls of crumpled paper. Everything he wrote sounded so lame. 

Does anyone even say ‘salutations’ anymore? 

He dropped his head on the desk with a dejected sigh. Truth be told, he wasn’t even sure what to write past the opening sentence. He thought about inviting him over for tea, but the idea of Gio sitting pretty over a cup of jasmine didn’t sit well with him. His thoughts turned back to the letter unprompted. 

“I'm far cooler than you.”

There might actually be some merit to that statement. People like Giovanni didn’t associate themselves with someone like Augustine. The man was suave, collected, and ambiguous. Auggie was just a hot mess of hormones and lanky limbs. 

“Not like he needs to know that,” he grumbled. 

He pushed his bangs out of his eyes and set about writing a new draft. Social graces be damned if he were going to let some old fart think he got the better of him. His quill darted across the page as he wrote, words pouring forth from his new sense of resolve. After what felt like eternity of editing and revising, he settled on a final draft. 

The letter was folded twice over and tucked in an envelop. He used Max’s wax kit and copper stamp to seal the letter. It looked professional enough. He addressed it to the Devil’s Respite in Boralus and dropped it in the post box later that afternoon.

It read the following: 

Gio, 

“Being cool” is dated. 

I propose a trade? You teach me something and I teach you something. Maybe over some lunch later this week. 

- Augustine Parkhurst