To Valerie: On Arrival in ____ County, Ohio,
Wish I’d sent this sooner, but I think I’m leaving. Polish neighbors keep me up nights with their talking, talking. I don’t know what they say, but it’s all vaguely threatening through the wall.
People eat in such peculiar manners. One woman held a fist of french fries the other day, she hoarded some in one hand while she ate from her plate with the other, and those fries weren’t otherwise going anywhere.
It’s nice to talk to you.
Dreams aren’t well. Bit of influenza, bit of Irish coffee, and they look like too-big backyard fireworks. Maybe that’s just when I shut my eyes. I shut them harder now. It would annoy you. I feel like it’s from staring at the sun when we were kids, but I couldn’t prove that.
When I wake up and squint the ceiling is a treasure map. The cracks and stains all lead to fortune, but I’m too tired to follow it, Val. Adventuring is for the child.
For aged, there’s only migration.
I’ll see you in words soon.
Hope all is well,
T.
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