I recently was lucky enough to stay for a weekend in a beautiful house my friends rented in Long Beach. Periodically during our stay we would read through the guest book, which was adorable. There were entries by kids that included drawings of mermaids and unidentifiable creatures, one little boy was super pumped about how many fans there were in the house, and a surprising amount of German people left kind notes.
When our last morning in Long Beach arrived, somehow I got tasked with crafting our message to the owners. My first thought: write it as if you’re entering the last entry into the Captain’s Log of a submarine stuck at the bottom of the ocean. This is the result:
Dear Kim, Anne and Ava,
The clock is ticking down. Tick tock tick tock tick tock. We only have 100 minutes left here, in this beautiful, sunny world. The end has come too soon.
Another 60 seconds have passed and everything is becoming a little bit dimmer. I can’t imagine how we’ll survive outside of the warm, protective embrace of Casa Covina. I don’t want to even think about it, but tick tock tick tock tick tock.
We’ve been so lucky. Warm, comfortable beds, a beautiful living room (where we truly lived for the first time), all we could ever possibly need within our grasp.
It was too good to be true. Something so beautiful is not meant to last. And now, tick tock tick tock tick tock.”
We haven’t heard back from the owners yet, which makes me wonder if they ever read these things. But I take solace knowing that someday, some vacationing youngster just getting the hang of reading will sound out each and every word, and go on to destroy every clock that ever crosses his path.
The things that are wrong with my brain 