Marie, it's been a long time since
we last spoke. Winter has passed,
and the forecast for spring
sounds like a tsunami of rain. Do you
remember Chicago, 1992? Kim, Patty
me and you were out for a weekend
fiesta. You were all mystified by the
"L" Train with it's multiple cars linked
together; resembling a worms movement
as it whizzes us from downtown to 69th Street
and the Dan Ryan Express. The day was breezy,
like an oscillating fan, crammed in a
small room, set on high. Later that evening
we sat out at the lakefront then ventured to Chinatown.
Makes me think of how quickly
time flies by, like sands spiraling though
the looking glass at an accelerated pace. I'm glad you could
finally forgive, because anger consumed you, over
a death you could not prevent, a suicide
you blamed on your parents for far too many
years. Our friendship has endured years
of occasional gatherings, so I never understood why
we lost contact. All I see is how easily
time moves us around.
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