A Letter Home

[ElaineDelgado 0]

“Computer, access letter CD10, and delete from paragraph one… again.” ::moves to sit on bed, and decides instead to climb onto her dresser::

 

“Dear Curt,

 

“I’ve gotten settled down, and grown used to my room enough to sleep well. I miss you all terribly, but I am getting used to not having you around. And I should say it’s a very good thing that Charlie didn’t come; there are other animals on board, and one close to my quarters I am pretty sure. I catch a whiff every once in a while, and Charlie would not have been pleased about that.

 

“I’ve met some of the crew. One member came into the sickbay the other day, seemingly only to use the comm. Bri, our Chief Medical Officer, referred to her as Marris. I looked it up in the crew manifest and found out that it was Marris Krax, our helmswoman. But I digress, as I have not actually been introduced to her yet; I should tell you more of Bri. Dr. Briana Zion, who insists on me calling her Bri. She is quite an interesting character. She’s… an Immortal. We talked for a while the other day, and I found her to be quite an persistent conversationalist. I slipped out something about enjoying painting, and she mentioned that perhaps she would like to see some of them. I believe I told you the response I got the last time I showed someone one of mine.” ::climbs carefully off her dresser and bends down to look under her bed::

 

“Got to help out in the sickbay finally, on the same day I was talking to Bri about painting. Our ship came under attack. We had a few people come in with minor injuries.: ::begins pulls painting supplies out from under her bed:: “I treated a person who looked like they’d fallen over their console, which is understandable. We felt the ship shake with whatever it was being hit with, which was kind of frightening.” ::sets up a few finished works, leaning them against the wall::

 

“But other than going through a wormhole, being attacked, and talking to an immortal, things have been quiet around here.” ::begins squirting paint out onto a palette:: “Be sure to forward this to the rest of the family. I’ll write everyone a note here soon enough.” ::grabs some paintbrushes, tries to decide which hand to use one of them in:: “Hmm… well, I suppose that’s all I have to say for now.”

 

::climbs back onto her dresser with her palette, a paintbrush in her right hand, and a piece of parchment:: “Your cousin, Elaine Delgado.”

 

“Computer, save and close letter.”

 

::begins painting something that looks similar to link sausage in a pink color, remembers the last time she tried to paint a wormhole::

 

“What is it?”

 

“A wormhole. I’m not finished yet.”

 

“It looks more like the intestines of a cow.”

 

“You critique of my unfinished work is duly noted; now go away.”

 

“Wow.”

 

“What?”

 

“If you look at it upside down it looks like it’s smiling at you.”

 

“That’s not funny.”

 

“Actually, it is… hmm, perhaps you should stick to painting clouds.”

 

“Don’t make me smack you Curt.”

 

“Okay, okay… I’m leaving…”

Edited July 19, 2004 by ElaineDelgado