As I write to you on this balmy afternoon, I look back fondly at the past few months. The summer sun did wonders for my rheumatism, and the rains have born a new growth of brightly colored flowers that reach ever skyward from the planter on my windowsill. But not all has been rosy since last we spoke, and it is with a heavy heart and utmost sincerity that I pen this message. For I must admit my summer experimentation has fallen short. And though it pains me to say it, I can bear the burden of the truth no longer: man cannot live on popcorn alone.
Do not think the impact of my news is lost to me. Like the beige clouds of the kernels themselves our dreams burst forth from our hearts, but alas, I fear they may have been too lofty. It’s of no surprise if these words shock you. Trust that they are as difficult to put down as I’m sure they are for you to read, but I must bear witness. The winter will be long, friends, and as it creeps nearer we must hasten our search for the foodstuffs that will see us through till spring. For try as we might, the corn will fail us. Just as it has failed me.
There was a time when the rustling of popcorn as its delicate arches danced across the bottom of my porcelain bowl brought a smile to my face and warmth to my heart, but those days are behind me. Buttered, salted, plain, it matters not. Even the more exotic cheesed varietals satiate me no longer. My heart cries out for more, dear reader.
But we must maintain. With strength and courage, we will move forward together, searching for that which may sustain us. May God bless us.