Dear Wigleaf,

Snow again. I know you know what it is to be cold.

Remember that old junker with the missing tape deck? It finally crapped out and I'm back on the bus. I don't mind it. It stops right out front every sixteen minutes, and I never did like driving on ice.

Have you sorted that situation with your mother?

You're right—last time we talked, I was a little distant. Maybe I wanted you to ask about it. It was unfair, I know. I appreciate you for pushing through. I appreciate you for being constant.

I've got to get to work. Longer letter later.

Love,

Shayne




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