awanderingbard | Letters to the inanimate

Dear Spam inbox,
Hello! How are you? Functioning away, I see. I'd just like to make you aware of a few things. One: I don't live in the UK. I have never lived in the UK. In fact, I don't even know anyone who lives in the UK. Therefore, the chances of me winning the UK lottery, while not impossible, are highly unlikely, let alone winning it several times a week.

Two: here's a message to pass on to all dying people: I'm sorry you're dying. I'm very sorry that your family is untrustworthy and you don't want to leave your millions to them. I really don't know what I'd do with your millions, though thanks for offering, random Asian dying person. If you're desperate, might I suggest a nice charity?

Finally, to all doctors, lawyers, and employers of any sort: I don't need a job, thanks. I really don't think I'll be much help to you, having no medical training and never having gone to law school. I'd just like to graduate high school before I take a job with a top surgeon. It's a thing with me.

Glad we could clear that up, Mr. Inbox. I love our working relationship and I didn't want this to get between us. I love you, man. It a completely platonic way of course.

Yours truly,
Taylor