PenPal Ch. 02byvelvetpie©
Aaron Lennox lay silently on his cot in his cell, reading the Wall Street Journal and trying not to think about the fact that his personal ad had not worked. Oh, he had received several replies to it, but none were what he was looking for. Fond Fucker in Madison, Wisconsin, had promised him love and a place to stay as long as he could let his friends fuck him also. Wispy Girl in Miami wanted him to come there and fuck her and her father. Ick! Then, there was MachOne from Ogunquit, Maine, who suggested that he fuck his way out of prison.
Not one response had appealed to the romantic in him. He was in prison, he knew that, but he still harbored a secret dream. The dream of love. He'd gotten wrapped up in the business, then in the ensuing scandal and had lost sight of that dream. If he'd remembered that, he would have been better off. He wouldn't have been so interested in the money. He would have remained as he had started, upright and on the right track. Instead, he had gotten sidetracked right into this jail cell.
He sat up and blew out a deep breath, holding his head in his hands. This wasn't all there was to life, was it?
"Hey, Lennox!" Bruce, the mailroom clerk, stood at his open cell door, holding several envelopes. "Here's the latest."
Aaron sat back down on the cot and sighing deeply, he started to leaf through the newest replies. Each envelope had been pre-opened per jail policy and he had never really cared until the second to last envelope in the stack. The envelope was the color of baked sand and had the texture of papyrus. Aaron dropped the rest of the envelopes on the blanket and carefully removed the sheaf of paper, unfolding it as he reclined on the cot.
It took him two minutes to read the missive and he closed his eyes, swallowing against the lump in his throat, then re-read it. The elegantly-written words opened his heart and found his weak spot, the seat where his dream of companionship lived. Someone wanted him! He could barely breathe as he pulled the shoebox from beneath his bed and took out his plain paper and pen.
You know me as prisoner number # 12076548. My real name is Aaron Lennox, though you could already have learned that from the prison's website. I am at the end of my sentence for fraud. I want to apologize ahead of time for my deeds. That's not the sort of person that I am. I just got caught up the thrill of easy money and ... well, you know what happens. I have all of the clips from my trial and I'd be glad to send them to you. I've never denied the fact that I was and am guilty. I was blessed to be in a position where I could provide restitution and I've been lucky enough to be forgiven by my victims. I only hope that you can look past my error and see me.
I was so happy to see your letter, even if it was the first time you've written to an inmate. This is my first time placing a personal ad and I only did so after I was satisfied that my head was on straight and since I'll be released in a few months, I wanted to have someone to be able to talk to. I have to be honest and tell you that I'm looking for a permanent relationship, but I'm also honest with myself in realizing that I need to get to know you, too, before anything like that can happen.
The picture that I used for the website was one that Bruce, our mailroom clerk, scanned for me. He also personally chose it, because he said that it was magical. He told me a story about Indians were afraid of having their pictures taken for fear that the camera would steal their souls. Bruce said that he could see my true soul in the picture and that anyone else could see it, too. Unfortunately (or fortunately?) for me, you were the only one who has delved beyond the blue of my eyes to see the color of my soul.
I have been waiting to hear from someone like you, Paul. I am not a scammer. That's not in my nature. I know that you'll have a hard time believing me when I say this and I don't blame you for it. I am laying my life and heart out for you. If you want to take advantage of me, you can. I am opening myself to you in the hopes that we can continue this conversation.
I am enclosing a photo for you. It's one I had taken when I worked at the firm. My hair is a lot longer now and my mustache is a little sloppy, but I'm the same. I haven't gained any weight. I've been spending most of my time in the library, reading some of the classics that I should have read a long time ago.
If I can ask something of you, I would ask for a book. Whatever you want to send me, I will be grateful for it. I hope that you will have patience with me, Paul. I know that I won't disappoint you. Thanks again for your letter. Hope to hear from you soon.
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