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Letters to Rachel

A husband reaches out to his wife as part of the ultimate long-distance relationship.

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Dropping My Guts

Dearest Rachel – You might look at that title with some measure of puzzlement; “Don’t you mean ‘spilling your guts, honey?” And to be fair, that’s a much more common expression in the English language vernacular, so I can see why you might think of it first. But here’s the deal, honey; after over five…

The Creak of Bones

Dearest Rachel – As a follow-up to my second letter from yesterday, I should point out that, as one might expect, my moment beneath my license weight after working out to the point of dizziness has passed – at least for now. Upon waking up this morning, I was basically back in the same position…

The Other Side of the Scale

Dearest Rachel – Monday morning, which is bad enough even without a job to go to, and I totter over to the bathroom; more specifically, the bathroom scale. Ever since Daniel and I got home from this last cruise, I’ve backslid to the point where I’m nearly pushing two-forty again. Granted, since getting home, I’ve…

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