Tuesday, March 8, 2011

I Love You But...

I'm allowing Mr. Suitcase a guest post today. 


The Letters

"I love you, but I'm not coming home," written on Italian stationary while both of them laughed so hard tears ran down their cheeks and they collapsed onto the tile floor.  I should explain that Italy is intoxicating.  My owner and her friend had been guzzling it for days (along with a good deal of wine) and had just about decided that they could find jobs picking lemons or olives or something and just not go home. They thought this was very original, however I can tell you that (from what all the other suitcases in the cargo hold tell me), this is a common fantasy.

They took turns taking pictures of each other pretending to write these letters and laughed some more. The next morning on the bus they shared with their fellow tourists how they had spent their evening.

It wasn't nearly as amusing to anyone else, I'm sure. Although someone did suggest that "I love you, but I'm not coming home" sounded like a good opening line to a novel. (Oh no. Why would anyone encourage them?)

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