dear alice,
in a previous letter i’ve referred to you as a female jesus. i want you to know that i can’t help it.
it’s strange to me that i do this. i mean, i’m not religious. and yet jesus routinely shows up in my writing. it’s a form of rebellion. i was raised in the mountains, across the rocky mountain trench, and nobody spoke, they just dug themselves in, waited. that’s how perpetual life is along a major fault. the air is full of silence; the silence is full of expectations.
alice, i’m routinely sacrilegious and i’m not going to apologize. i hope you understand.
are you rebellious?