Dear,

Whether it is a consequence of this national health crisis, or prohibition to enjoy the beginning of Beltane, I feel the bonfires are already reaching my very soul. I wear a dress and skirt underneath, and it is impossible to feel comfortable in them, even though the design of the dress is more suitable for a pregnant woman. I do look like a pregnant woman! Still, men stare at you, you give them what they  want. I scream, speak loud, ask what do they want, why do they stare, but every single of them keep staring and look lasciviously to my legs. Those men, fat, greasy dickheads.