4/30/13. dear elsie.

      Today, I went out and grew out my hair, Els.  Well, not today, but over a period of time.  If I try really hard, I can cover both my eyes and I look like a mushroom.  I was going to write in May, but I just... felt like writing it now.  I'll write in May too, not like I'm not writing at all.  Right.  How's Ursa?  It's probably nice to have her there, was a bit of a surprise for us when she went up to live with you instead.  Still, at least you have company from down here.  

      Nope, haven't gotten the call back yet.  There's four or five people vying for the spot, so I'm pretty sure I'll get bumped.  I don't mind, I'll just keeping looking for stuff.   Yah?  

      I actually told myself not to tell you to come back.  Must be pretty nice up there, worshiping God all the time and all.  I'm being selfish, yeah... but I think you went a bit too early.  Well, I started again.  Mmmm... I'm trying to decide whether life is worth doing.  Like, for a bunch of years.  But you told me to keep it, so, suppose I will.  Thanks.

      So I took the baseball bat to the computer.  Well, actually just rebuilding it, but uh... you know.  That kind of thing.  I'll let you know later.  Oh.  The firm's doing horrid right now.  Boss is using a totally rubbish business model.  I got acc[here, the text is obscured by some unidentifiable blackish blob.]

Accepted, sorry.  It was blueberry muffin.  You're favorite.

*Your.

Signed:

Eisle

For:

elsie, 1913 to 1964.