Dear Young Aravah

by Aravah Chaiken

Dear Young Aravah,

We were all so naïve in 2020. We believed the world could be a better place, full of hope, peace, love, and homemade puff pastry. Unfortunately, the sea levels are rising, power is going to people’s heads. I cannot stand on my own two feet! Everyone uses hovering chairs so much that walking has become obsolete. I run every day and get ridiculed for it. I have a government-issued smartphone that gives me a heaping spoonful of propaganda during every meal. The news is all thanks to the government, and the bad is the rebels. Here is a piece of poetry for you, and this is the only time I can write. I cannot bake puff pastry either.

Under the television

Is a layer of truth

But sugarcoated

Sugar makes sweet

But tasteless

And not healthy

A sugarcoated truth

Is merely a lie

No substance

Nor thought

Hidden in its depths

And here’s what I have for you, Aravah of the past. I have been in your past, present, and future. You could say that I know what that is, but is I so much as say Charles Dickens they’ll whisk me off to prison.

I shall not tell you anything of anyone else, for separating families is common at birth. Children go to cold, uncaring mothers. Oh, what would I give to be back home and free?

Love from your future self,

Aravah Chaiken

P.S. Tell our sister, Masua, that I loved her

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