We both made bad choices, everything was wrong right from the start. Going up the hill hand in hand, that should never have happened. I should have carried the pail, you should have stayed at the bottom. Why we needed the darn water, it’s still a big mystery to me. Perhaps we were an ill-fated pair, destined to come tumbling down hard. But that’s all water under the bridge, or more accurately water spilled on the ground. They say I will be laid up for awhile, a CT Scan found a subarachnoid hemorrhage in my brain. Hope you are doing well too, sorry but I don’t remember your first name.
Paul m. Strohm is a freelance journalist working in Houston, Texas. He cataloged the unpublished correspondence of D.H. Lawrence while working at the Humanities Research Center at UT-Austin. Even the famous begin letters with ‘Dear ******, I am fine. How are you?” His most recent collection of poems was published by the Wellhead Press in 2013.