Dear Wigleaf,

I'm here in the live oak at the old house on 11th Bay Street. I drive by the place once in a while, it's not that far from where I live now. When I first moved back to the city though, I drove by and saw that my tree was gone. Not even a stump. So today I had to bring the photo. Made one of those photos of a photo, the past superimposed on now, you've seen that shit on the internet, right? Climbed right in, and here I am. You know the photo I mean though? I might've shown it to you before. Bare-legged little girl in a tree? I'm a ghosty smudge. I'm probably about 8 or 9 because it looks like it could totally be my daughter. That's the only picture I have of my tree. It's like having only one photo of an old lover. No beating off though, ha ha. Anyway. Wish you were here, fucker.

Take it sleazy,

Anna Lea

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