My Dear Little Friend;

I am sorry I didn't call on the day of your birthday. It was snowing and I was busy counting the drops of snow flakes which broke my window.

Because I have five windows, and all of them are small, and if snow flakes break a small tiny bit of glass, all my windows freeze to death, then they all turn pink and re-evacuate the sunshine.

There is a big chimney on the way to the library that I have spotted by the railroad. It is the house of three little whispers. I asked them the other day, if I could take the chimney home.

Yes, answered the first one, but there are oranges growing from its bricks, and we eat those oranges in the summer time. You can take it if you bring us books with pictures of oranges in it. And feed us pudding with jelly in the afternoon.

No, answered the second one, I have my bed by the window, and the sound of leaves mating make me sleep and wake me up all the time, I can never dream of sharing my window.

Yes, answered the third one, take the filthy chimney and plant some geraniums in it, we are better off in a drawer.

So, I didn't take it, because the library closes after 6:00 PM, and there are no books with pictures of oranges, and I Knew it was not wise to trust a whisper and its shadow, no matter how honey like they really were.

My mother comes to town this afternoon, so we could buy some water to plant a tree by the pool and protect the birds from falling from the air. I think I have done all I am supposed to do in day and a night. Don't you think?

I will write again, as soon as I get a chair and two boxes where I can store my thoughts, and keep some to share with you, my strawberry coloured non-stranger.