Dear Modesty, (Epistolary Wednesday)
On Wednesdays, I write letters.
Dear Modesty,
I’m not sure how to speak of you these days. No one seems to agree on what exactly you are, calling you out in varying situations as if you are a chameleon, changing to suit your surroundings. You’re covered ankles in Bangladesh or covered cleavage in Iowa church services or skirts-to-the-knees at a choir con…