No mail from Dot today and a slow night at work has left Dart feeling flat.  He’s starting to get nervous about leaving so much school work undone over Christmas break. He was supposed to read a book of his choice by one of a list of great American writers. He’d picked one out at school, but it revealed itself “to be a stinker,” so he dropped it and didn’t pick anything else up.

His prose workshop assignment for January 16 is a long piece characterizing a place. He’d like to borrow back some of the letters he wrote to Dot about Charleston that he can re-work for the assignment. The assignment after that one will be a short story, so he needs to think up some “horrible mess of tripe” and call it “The Legend of the Corinthian Street-Walker,” or some similar nonsense.

It’s 3:00 AM and he wants to get up for church tomorrow. Incidentally, Mr. Kershner made his 1946 goal of 300 people in the congregation every Sunday. The sanctuary holds 400, so he had a pretty good average!

“I hope to hear something from you or your family on Monday. I’m almost lost without you, Dot. I love you very much, my Sweetheart.”