Dear Wigleaf,
 
The other day a man knocked at my door. He was white and seemed nice enough. I don't think a mean man would wear a beige jumpsuit. It was a little rude when he pushed me aside and demanded food, but I too get crabby when I'm hungry.
 
He dug into the cheese plate I arranged and asked if I ever thought about dying. I told him yes, sometimes, but what a morbid question. Why was he so morbid?
 
Turns out he had escaped from the Napa State Hospital for the Criminally Insane. It's really quite a beautiful facility, though tourists tend to skip it. I suggested the facility add a tasting room to attract visitors. They could paint it Desert Sand or Rustic Brown or Slate Gray. My new friend liked Slate Gray.
 
He then explained he was on his way to heaven to be with Jesus. He said heaven is a movie theater in Tacoma, Washington, and his date with Jesus was Thursday at 3:00 pm.
 
Before he left, he tied me up and stuffed me in the closet. He also urinated on me despite there being a perfectly good half-bathroom next to the kitchen. I forgave him since he hadn't kept polite company in some time.
 
It took me a few hours to untie myself, at which point I showered, poured a glass of Sauvignon Blanc, and sat on the patio.  I sat there thinking about primary colors, of all things, and how much I missed them.
 
 
Kara






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Read KV's "Don Johnson Is Not Your Man."

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