Letter #11 (or, A simple explanation)

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Ale,

your last letter was straight out of a movie. The scary doctor, the unknown meds, the feverish situation that happened later on.

I don’t want to dismiss your claim, but it surely sounded like you were not your right self when you had your encounter. Even if I try to make sense out of it – let’s pretend that she was Erika; what business would she have down there, when you know for sure she was living in the north?

Of course, even if she was she – maybe she was just visiting a friend. And she smiled to you because she is, after all, polite – you said that.

We’re not the same people we were ten, fifteen years ago Ale. I’m sure she would be different as well.

Also, I’m sure that you just saw a random lady filling up her tank, and in the altered perception of the meds, you imagined what you wanted. Believe me, that’s probably what happened.

I hope your health problem are getting better. I hope to read more words from you soon – in those dreadful days, the most of the talks I hear around me are how many points did Kane score in Fantasy Football, and very graphic dissertations on the boobassology of various actresses, soubrettes and everything female.

Looking forward to your reply,

D.

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