Continued, The Correspondent
Sybil Vanantwerp
TO: Sybil Vanantwerp, former clerk to Judge Guy D. Donnelly
I imagine you reading my notes standing at the mailbox, heat growing on your neck and the sick feeling in your stomach.
Or standing in your kitchen while the water whistled for tea and you didn’t hear it because you were distracted by that bad feeling.
Or in a chair, I think maybe you squirmed as the meaning in my message became clear to you.
I was pleased by that, but it was not enough.
I went for a long drive again and I found your blue house with the steep roof and the mailbox like a fish, the bird bath.
I sat outside in my car for some time. You have a nice house.
It is probably worth a lot of money with the way you can see the river, even though part of your fence is falling.
I can tell you are a good gardener, even though it’s winter.
I am a gardener. I can see everything is organized and trimmed back.
You know what you’re doing with it. I will come have a look in spring and maybe again in summer, and I hope you think of me outside your house and it disturbs you.
I hope it poisons your days and you look out the window the times you feel chilled.
I hope you have to look twice, and that little fear keeps you from enjoying the life you have left, in the same way that you impeded me.
Sincerely,
DM