the_mole's_letters tt "letters? me? i never get letters," thought the mole. he dug a tunnel through the dark earth, feeling sorry for himself. "not even a greeting, or anything like that," he thought. "or an invitation to a party in the desert, or under the ice. never." he thumped angrily on the ground. but there was no answer. "there's only one person that wants to write to me," he thought, "and that's me." and so in the darkness, deep underground, he wrote himself letters, one after the other. dear mole, yours sincerely, the mole or dear mole, i miss you. the mole once he'd finished writing each letter, he hid it somewhere under the mud. then, a little later, he would chance upon it and read it. sometimes the letters brought tears to his eyes. "thank you very much, mole," he thought. or, "i miss you too, mole." sometimes he threw a party for all the senders of all his letters. then he ran from one side to the other of the darkest tunnels and caverns. he danced too. "am i really happy?" he wondered as he danced with himself. at the end of one of these parties, he went and sat in a corner and wrote a letter to himself, with the immortal words: dear mole, you have to go on a journey. the mole he nodded and went on a journey. up he climbed, toward the mysterious air. he held his breath, saw the light shining down through the earth, and slowly climbed on. that evening, he paid an unexpected visit to the squirrel. they drank tea while the mole talked about his parties deep under the ground; large, dark parties without a trace of light. the squirrel shook his head in amazement. the mole stirred his tea and hoped that time would now finally stand still. 130205 what's it to you? who go blather from