Dear Mimmy,
PARIS. There’s electricity, there’s water, there’s gas. There’s, there’s . . . life, Mimmy. Yes, life; bright
lights, traic,
people, food . . . Don’t think I’ve gone nuts, Mimmy. Hey, listen to me, Paris!? No, I’m not
crazy, I’m not kidding, it really is Paris and (can you believe it?) me in it. Me, my Mommy and my Daddy.
At last. You’re 100% sure I’m crazy, but I’m serious, I’m telling you, dear Mimmy, that I have arrived in
Paris. I’ve come to be with you. You’re mine again now and together we’re moving into the light. The
darkness has played out its part. The darkness is behind us; now we’re bathed in light lit by good
people. Remember that—good people. Bulb by bulb, not candles, but bulb by bulb, and me bathing in
the lights of Paris. Yes, Paris. Incredible. You don’t understand. You know, I don’t think I understand
either. I feel as though I must be crazy, dreaming, as though it’s a fairy tale, but it’s all TRUE
What is the mood of the excerpt’s last diary entry?
tense
joyful
serious
peaceful
9 answers
PARIS. There’s electricity, there’s water, there’s gas.
Don’t think I’ve gone nuts, Mimmy.
There’s, there’s … life, Mimmy. Yes, life; bright lights, traic,
people, food…
The darkness has played out its part
Yes, b.
10 answers