Sin

April 21st, 2009

Dear Possum,

I'm in "Texas", and I got a book on how to "correctly" write a letter. These quotes look weird.

Anyway, I'm in Texas. Some town called Clarksville. I'm crashing at this old man's house. He's pretty sweet, said I could stay at his place as long as I needed. His wife isn't too fond of me, says I smell like old wet cabbage. I just shrugged her off.

The old guy, his name's Harlin, he says he has a grandson or something. His grandson's really into fishing I think, or baseball, or some boy sport. I think Harlin hasn't seen him in a while. He talks about him like he's still seven. The pictures are old polaroids anyway, so I'm guessing it's been a while.

His wife, Marilynn, she cooks wicked good food. I always clean up after her though, and she doesn't like me, so I end up with all of the leftovers and millions of dishes to take care of. It's cool though, I don't smell so bad anymore. I've been showering twice a day for about four days. Harlin says I smell fine.

Do you think she can tell that I'm queer Possum? Do I just scream "Lesbian" in every part of me?

Oh well.

Have a good day, Rat