Letters to Ginger. Anya Annetsun

Letter first

      You were called Ginger for a reason. A bright red shock of hair … always red lips. And fire in my eyes.

      You were all on fire! Always! There was the flame itself! She showered with ideas, responded to any excuse to play a little and to do something naughty.

      Once you brought her home, your friend. The modest and shy Pfeiffer.

      I immediately noticed the colossal difference between you.

      Ice and fire. Heaven and hell.

      Pifi, as you called her, for some reason immediately fell in love with me. She talked to me on the phone for hours when you flew to Europe for your biennials.

      Honestly, Ginger, Pifi and I didn't have anything, I swear!

      But she has hinted more than once that she has something more for me than just friendly feelings.

      I didn't understand then: how do you see it?

      Are we going to live together? Like who? Mom, dad, daughter? Pifi was younger than us, but not that much!

      As friends? But only then, forgive me, this is a whole Swedish family, and in it, as you know, anything is possible …

      No, I didn't "want" Pifi, as you once deigned to accuse me. But of course I liked her … Judge for yourself: a bright blonde, with sensual full lips, always with perfect makeup. Skinny but curvy … any man would be captivated by her!

      But I was not cheating on you, Ginger … no!

      I just, mentally sometimes, well, yes … perhaps mentally.

      I want to tell you one case, and you will understand everything.