This one will take time... which I don't have much of right now.
I'm trembling, I think. It's wonderful. How could I have forgotten this? What else is hiding inside of me, hiding in drawers I never open? Last night I opened the drawer furthest to the left and there it was. I think I made it for Unix, when he was living in Liverpool... why didn't I send it to him? I know I sent him something, in fact earlier today when looking for an old bill I came across a letter he wrote me from Liverpool, and there was a thank you involved. (and the letter smelled wonderful, like all of the best smells that paper and ink can have, and there was the prettiest stamp on the envelope, but that's neither here nor there.) Anyway, I reached into the drawer, and I felt it before I saw it. I pulled it out and unfolded it, and it was delicate and made a perfect crinkly sound. And we all know how much I love bridges (or maybe I'm the only one who knows that). I only looked at it for a moment before something pulled me away, but all last night and all day today one word that I saw on it would not leave me alone. When I searched for it today, I didn't expect to find anything, but there it was, and here it is now, flooding into my ears over and over again, and making me remember the best feelings. I'm so glad I didn't send it to Unix. There's something else though, something I can't quite remember, and it seems to be too old and obscure a thing for the internet to help me with, short of emailing Mr. Farina directly... I think the answer I'm looking for is sitting in a box in my room, only I'm too excited to look for it. What year was it? It was forever ago, I think. I don't remember the exact year, but I remember that the fall smelled like burning leaves, and I was hopeful about everything, the way I am right now, right at this minute. Oh, when I open that drawer and look at it again, what other words will I see? Right now I am teeming with the most wonderful plans... and I'm late. I'll have to come back to this, after I've looked in the box.