To My Dearest Grandmother,
I am writing you to ask if I may move into your house full of heat. Today, it was a breezy 63 degrees inside of my parents' house. Swaddled in my fuzziest of blankets, I parked it on the couch with no desire to leave for fear of freezing in the wild winds of October. Much to my surprise, it was warmer outside than in! When questioned about the status of heat in the house, I was told not til November or snow on the ground. I cannot blame my cool roommate named "Mom"; our gas tank costs $1,000 USD to fill. I'd like to extend a big thanks to our government officials who are in bed with big oil; I hope you're thinking about all the people who can't afford heat this winter while snuggled so close together. So, dear Grandmother, I'm moving in with you, into your teeny tiny little house out on Long Island where fuel costs don't matter when you can feel the chill on your bones.