1st April 2012
Dear Cassi,
My last letter
brought to mind an event from my youth when I stunk. I was at Alan’s house and
I didn’t like his shower. It was an old thing with smelly water and even after
you got the hot water running when you switched the shower head on you got a
blast of cold.
Now I was young
at the time and never thought to just turn the shower on from outside the tub.
Then, I was apprehensive about staying at that cockroach infested hole that the
old man called home.
I wanted to go
home. I wanted to go home and sleep in my bed and shower in my shower. I wanted
to look out the window and not see chain link fences or broken concrete. That
place in the inner city made me feel sick, and my stepmother’s cooking made me
feel worse.
It was my last
day there when my stepmother grabbed me by the arm and shoved me into one of
the washrooms and wouldn’t let me out until I cleaned myself. As I have no
recollection of being provided a towel or fresh clothes I imagine the shower
freshened me for little more than half an hour. Well, I was home by the end of
that day, and that made me happy.
Stay clean,
little sister
Richard Leland
Neal
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