Gnometown

Letters to My Father

Dear Dad,
Remember that one morning when you told me there was a Gnome riding a duck in the backyard? And when I went out into the backyard, you slammed the door and locked it? Well, I just wanted to tell you that I forgive you. Years later, I would find out you had a prostitute in the house and you wanted to have sexual relations with her. As a man, I can now say that I understand your needs and I understand why you needed to act the way you did.
The thing I still can't understand is how could you know years later I would actually come upon a gnome riding a duck. For, just today, I opened my door in my country house and there was a gnome on a duck "Ahoy!" he said. "I've brought you some muffins!"
I've never killed a gnome or a duck before, but I can only find closure in apologizing to you.
Yrs,
M

Dear Dad,

I'm glad you didn't write me back. You see, I believe some things are left unsaid. Like the story about the time you bet your friends I couldn't eat 11 hotdogs. I was so positive that I couldn't either, but you kept feeding me hotdogs and telling me in that grim voice of yours "You better finish!" That's the type of thing that's better left unsaid.
In your new life, I hope you have another son who can eat 12 hotdogs!
Yrs,
M

Dear Dad,
I was out in the hot springs this morning. I live on a mountain in a glorious country house I built from cardboard and pallets. It's not really altogether legal for me to be living out here, but I have many creditors and ex-wives that I need to escape. Kinda like you when you fled the country after murder. I'm not sure who you murdered, but I'm sure you had your reasons. Like, maybe he couldn't eat 11 hotdogs. I'm not really sure. Another gnome was out in the yard today on a duck.
Yrs,
M

Dear Dad,
There is a small army of gnomes on ducks in my front yard. The leader gnome has been knocking on my door and asking if I might have seen Jilly Bill. I tell them I don't know anything, but they persist. I'm not sure what to do. Maybe if I had that anti gnome spray you told me you owned. The kind that would keep you safe from gnomes and what I found out was really a butcher knife you used to slay five in a Boston warehouse in 1986. Anyway, the gnomes are calling again.
Yrs,
M

Dear Dad,
The gnomes have granted me immunity for the deaths of Jilly Bill and Garden Horse the duck. I told them my story and they feel that years of abuse at your hands had driven me to murder the gnome. I feel validated. This will be the last letter I write to you, as the gnomes are taking me to a far off land called Gnometown. I can't guess what Gnometown and my new home for me might entail. Maybe there's a place where you and I can finally make peace. However, Gnometown is not that place, for you are reviled as an evil despot and killer of gnomes. I thought you should know.
Yrs,
M
P.S. Do you still have that BMX bike I had? I would really like to have it back.