As I unsnapped the front pocket of my coach wristlet in search of my T-pass, I noticed a folded piece of notebook paper. Typically, this pocket only holds my monthly T-pass, a just-in-case Charlie Card, my BU ID and my driver's license, so I was confused when my fingers touched the folded paper.
Had I written a note and shoved it in the pocket only to be forgotten? No. I knew I hadn't.
When the T finally arrived, I scooted my way into an open seat and pulled out the mysterious note. I unfolded the sheet of paper and read:
Dear A,
I love you will you marry me? I want to be with you forever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and...guess what EVER.
Love you <3
Alana!
(The exclamation point contained a heart instead of a plain old dot. It also had an illustration of what looks like a diamond ring.)
If you, like Riki and Megan, think I drunkenly scrawled out this note and forgot about it, you are wrong. I blame these two. 9-year-olds are trouble!
