BIRTHDAY
LETTER
It is your birthday, again, and I have nothing to say, again, except that I cried briefly in the car today after getting off the phone with Mom, though I never thought to do anything weird, like run my car into a pole or the ditch. I wondered if you knew any of what I was thinking, and then, as you know, I considered the birds for a moment, sunning themselves in puddles near the underpass. Brett Elizabeth Jenkins |