Dear Scary Lady who lived in the Scary House,
You were just an old lady who lived in a house that you could probably not manage to maintain any longer, but you terrified us all when you looked out your window and up the alleyway to where we hid, throwing stones at that very same window. You had probably lived there alone for a long time, long before we were born, and you probably had a good life surrounded by good neighbours. I bet you longed for the old days when children respected their elders and did as they were told. You are probably long dead now. You were old 20 years ago, or you at least seemed old; ancient, even, when I was ten or whatever age when our random attacks against your property occurred.
I was not a bad child, and I think that I did what I did (throwing stones, or banging on your door and running away) out of youthful exuberance, not malice. But to you, I’m sure they results were the same. I am sure you were just as scared of us, as we were of you.
Anyway, I just wanted to say sorry for being a dick.
I hope you have peace,
Alan
