Woke up to find Mitch asleep on my couch again. He drooled all over my
raw silk cushion, but I can't get angry at Mitch. Am thinking
I should just keep the door unlocked for him on Saturdays, let him
wander in Sunday morning, and then make him a hangover breakfast and
listen to From the Top while we talk about his problems. Still not sure
where he actually lives, if he's even from this town. My
neighbor says I'm within my legal rights to kill him.
Miss you too much. Come visit. I've got a blow-up mattress and a couch,
and am only 4 hours from Chicago and 1 hour from Detroit.
- - -
Read BW's story, "The Man Behind You."
w i g · l e a F