Dear Ever-Evolving Secondary Character,
You cry. A lot.
Yes, I know that if I were in your shoes, I wouldn’t stop at crying, but would be a quivering mass of uselessness.
I don’t see what that has to do with anything.
You cannot shine after you’ve set. I’m sure we’ve discussed this before.
Dear Owls Both Shapeshifting and Otherwise,
I’ve given you three chances now to be in this story. Twice I’ve had to cut you out again, and the third time–well.
I don’t think this is working out.
It’s not you, it’s me. I’m pretty sure.
Header lyrics from Mary Chapin Carpenter’s “Iceland.”