Dear Lewis, Today is April 1st. No fooling. It is hard to say where to begin. You never knew or married me, so I guess for you that might narrow down who I am. Without getting overly emotional, I always wanted to have your job when I was growing up. I’m grown up now and nobody is going to give me your job, so I’m going to take it. I am working on a novel right now. Actually, I’m working on three, but who but a writer would believe me. The first line is: I will tell you that I’m a Southerner, though you will not believe me. That line is for you, Lewis. I can’t promise that my opinions will be like yours. They won’t. Or that my voice is anything like yours. Like our fingerprints, the difference will be obvious. But I will tell you whenever I eat a chili dog from The Varsity. The last time, I was pregnant and nauseous, but just the thought of eating a chili dog calmed me. I ate two. They went down like ice water. I will report to you any time I eat a chili dog in the future. But really, Lewis, the last thing I need is another chili dog, so they may have to wait for a while. Please let me know if you have met Gandhi in heaven. Atlanta isn’t the same without you. Oh, it wouldn’t be the same even if you were here. All the best, Nicki |
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Dear Lewis >
Good Southern Girlsposted Feb 16, 2009 7:29 AM by Nicki Salcedo [ updated Feb 16, 2009 7:30 AM ] |