Thursday, May 13, 2010

Dear Quintus,

My best friend has started hanging out with a tough crowd and I’m worried about her. She’s already smoking and I’m afraid she might be drinking too. How can I let her know she’s headed down the wrong path without ruining our friendship?

Ashley, 14

Dear Ashley,

What calamitous folly! Surely the scant rations of fresh water, biscuits, and turtle meat stowed on board are insufficient for sustaining the crew on such a long and treacherous endeavor. Does not prudence dictate waiting at port until that time when our larder swells with provisions enough to make our journey less arduous?

— Q

 


* * *

Dear Quintus,

I have no luck with girls. I’ve changed my hairstyle and tried wearing different clothes but nothing seems to work. How can I get them to notice me?

Nate, 15

Dear Nate,

Though the weather be marked by a deceptive mildness, I am reminded by each briny spray of the sea how easily the skin chaps and blisters, opening invite to infection and malady. I assure you, the means of catastrophe and misery are infinite on this ill-fated voyage.

— Q


* * *

Dear Quintus,

A boy in class has been cheating. I know it’s wrong to snitch but it’s also wrong to cheat. What do I do?

Willow, 13

Dear Willow,

Woe is upon us! The sea has turned most disagreeably sour, roiling and pitching as though inspired to cause the utmost discomfort to our bearing. The creaking and groaning of the boards announce that sinking of the vessel is imminent. Only divine guidance has prevented us thus far from being dashed upon the rocks. I fear our luck is short and our condition, dire as it already is, will only prove more destitute and forlorn with the passage of time.

— Q


* * *

    

Dear Quintus,

My mother is driving me crazy! She still treats me like a baby. She comes into my room without knocking and listens in on my phone calls. How do I let her know I’m not a little kid anymore?

Jeremy, 15

Dear Jeremy,

The fitful horrors of a grueling night cowering below deck give way to weary mind and melancholy disposition. My shipmates, brimming with contempt at my torpor in the face of a minor atmospheric disturbance, gleefully mock me . How long will their merriment last after we’ve been swallowed up by a fearsome tempest?

— Q


* * *

Dear Quintus,

I’m beginning to develop faster than the other girls at school. It was bad enough when they started teasing me but now the boys are doing it as well. I feel like moving to another state. How can I get them to stop?

Rachel, 13

Dear Rachel,

So that is a whale. Good God, what a monster! A great gloominess is cast over the prospect of our hunt as we are clearly no match for the ferocious leviathan; whose angered thrashing and smiting of jaws signal our certain destruction. Could there be a less efficient method for dealing with such a beast than the paltry implements at our disposal? I beseech we make haste for shallow waters before we capsize and are consigned to spend eternity entombed in the murky depths of this detestable ocean.

— Q


* * *

Dear Quintus,

My older brother used to be really cool but now I hate him. Why won’t he go away?

Luke, 14

Dear Luke,

If casting me adrift in this decrepit dinghy be thought to still my tongue I say nay. Gulls and dolphins will reap the benefit of my caution while mortal man sails on to his doom.

— Q

Sean Murphy is a writer living in Tucson, Arizona. His work has appeared in print and online in Opium, The Onion, Nerve, The Tucson Weekly, and What the Hell Are You Eating? He is currently working on a novel so please be quiet.

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