Dora wiggled her hand along her chin, lost in ever-deepening thought as she sat at her table. Biting her tongue, she couldn't believe that this task could have been so difficult, but, at the same time, had it been easy, she might not have procrastinated as terribly as she'd done.
It wasn't that it was difficult. In fact, it could have been the most natural thing, given that the audience of the letter she'd been sitting here writing for the better part of an hour. It was just the idea of writing a letter, versus speaking to them in person or through the phone- it seemed to be a simple matter of that distance, so magnified by her living out on this remote island. Instead of being a modest show of calligraphic affection, Dora couldn't help but view it as a further symbol of her independence; a trait that her parents, her mother in particular, weren't much too keen on.
Even so, after an hour, she finally had something.
"Dear Mom and Dad,"
She frowned with scorn, upset with her own inability to write something so simple. She knew it would be so much more of a relief to simply run down to the Cranny and make a phone call; she wouldn't have spent an hour on that, as well.
For a split second, she felt upset, not only at herself, but at Audie's suggestion to write a letter in the first place.
Dora's legs swung in place as despair began to set in as she blankly stared at the letter. Just a week ago, caught in a procrastination spell that now threatened to spill into this final day wherein a letter could be sent to arrive promptly enough, she had caught Audie in the center of the island, gung-ho about labeling a mountain of head-shots to be sent out to talent agents. That had been when Audie made the suggestion that now threatened Dora's entire day:
"Why not write a letter?! Those are always totes amazing to receive!"
Perhaps that was truly the case? Maybe her parents would enjoy receiving something physical to hold? Maybe it wasn't so much a reminder of their current situation of being apart, but something of a keepsake to cherish?
Dora tapped the eraser-end of her pencil against her lips, tucked inward as they were at her labyrinthine thoughts swirling about her mind. She bit her tongue, her brow furrowed with determination.
She had it.
"I know you two had your reservations about me moving out on my own, but I can honestly say that I love it out here."
And then, just like that.
Her face winced as she slammed into that wall known as writer's block, leaning back in her chair while her eyes narrowed longingly, peering out her window, regretting her decision to wait until today to accomplish this. Had she only pieced this out better; perhaps a sentence a day. Maybe then, she could have perused the island, asked for ideas on what to write.
Snapping awake from her daydream, Dora sat up with a jolt, noticing her neighbor, Whitney, strolling down the lane on her way to the town square, perhaps to have some fun times with the others. That swelling sense of regret suddenly reared itself once again- oh, the things she could be doing, now, had she completed this sooner.
Then again, it hadn't been a totally loss. In the last week, had she taken the time to return home to battle this letter, she could have missed out on any number of activities that, at the time, had been such a bright spot on her week.
She remembered when Lucky had brought a fish with him while meeting up with Fang and herself, only for the fish to leap out from its portable container, splashing wildly atop the brick foundation beneath them. Dora recalled her sense of terror, not only at the foreign creature slapping closer toward her, forcing her to recoil atop the bench, shooting her legs up from the ground, but at the prospect of that creature, regardless of how terrified she had found it, being left upon land only to die there.
While she might have expected Lucky to freak out just the same, his reaction of horror wasn't within the same vein of her own. Instead of rushing to return the fish to his portable container, Lucky leapt into action, falling onto all-fours as he immediately closed the distance between himself and the fish, nervous beads of sweat pelting the ground beneath him as he desperately tried to bat the fish across the bricks and over toward the river in a furious fit of anxiety. This, all while Fang couldn't resist the urge to wrap his arms around his stomach as his laughter brought a particularly cheerful soreness to his midsection.
Dora had no reason to hide her grin as she thought of the event, knowing what to write next. She gripped the pencil in between her fingers, leaning over her sheet of paper.
"I'd be lying if I said it wasn't always peace and quiet, but it's no lie that every day here has been nothing short of an adventure."
While she had once again hit that wall, it was only accompanied, this time, by a particular fondness for this island and the friends she had made here.
"I know you were both worried about me, but even when there are things that frighten me, I have such amazing friends here that they help me out with anything I might need."
Pulling her hand away, she smiled fondly as she examined the pencil in her hand, having even received it from Sylvia after she'd cleaned out her storage. It even seemed, now that she'd thought about it- whenever she needed something, Frobert might have won something in one of his online fitness groups, or Ed could have stumbled upon some antique to replace something new in his 'gentleman's studio'. Even Vivian always appeared ready to impart some of her worldly wisdom to Dora, recognizing the young mouse's need for a guiding hand when it came to striking it on their own.
She couldn't help but smile fondly, lowering her head in some nostalgic reverence of her time here.
"I think I'll be okay. and if you're ever worried, now you'll have this letter to return to."
Smiling at the thought, she punctuated.
"Forever your daughter,"
Then, like an icy breeze passing at the back of her neck, a shiver crawled down her spine while her eyes ran open wide. A bead of sweat rolled down her head, realizing now that, for all of her progress, she had missed out on the very reason Audie had been scripting those many head-shots.
Her voice emerged with a wiry chill, "The- The signature…"
Dora's hand trembled as she turned her head, eyes trailing slow toward the clock atop the wall, knowing Wilbur would be taking off soon with the day's mail deliveries.
The pencil in her hand swerved back and forth in uncertain coordination, Dora's mind racing back and forth. Could she track down Audie for tips? But that might prevent her from getting the letter out at all? Should she simply scribble down something in place of some well thought out show of calligraphy?
Her eyes peeked toward the rest of her small home, so ornately well-kept and pristine, solely for her parents' first visit.
"A- Audie?!" she gravelly spoke up as she leapt to her feet in a fit of desperation, clutching the pencil and paper with a frantic grasp while dashing toward the door, "H- Help!"
With that, her panic was accompanied only by the pitter-patter of her audacious hustle.