c to d (tower of london version)

D,

I assume that you will probably receive my text message before you read this, but if that isn't so "I am back in New Jersey." Exausted and feeling a bit like I smell of airplane but overwhelmingly Alive, which is a good thing. It was rainy and my flight was delayed, the resulting wait wasn't as bad as it could have been however and I was much releived. Once in the tiny airplane I came to the realization that there was only myself and twelve other passengers. I sat alone with not one single person in sight and since I had my book and my journal this suited me fine. The flight felt longer than it's 50 minutes but we did fly through a storm and I must admit it was pretty thrilling. I could look out the window and in the flashes of bright white light that mark the wings of the plan for others see the raindrops miles before they hit earth seemingly suspended by the strobe. It was really fantastic, I wish you had seen it. It was a like a sneak preview of these little drops that hadn't reached the earth yet.

My family seems well. There is now a cheerleading bumper sticker on the car. My sister is more like my mother every day. I feel strange and old here like I don't quite belong. I am wearing stupid pajamas. You'd laugh if you saw me. They are warm though. Did you know that the root of "pajama" is persian? It derives from "leg pants." My question is, of course, are there pants that are not for one's legs?

I miss you. I am going to write you another letter on hotel stationary. If I meet Alan Moore I'll tell him not to let anyone make his comic books into movies. Especially Watchman. I wish neil gaiman still lived in london, I could sit outside his house chanting his name and asking him to teach me his ways of writing wave to him.


I'm Exhausted, and I found my pocket edition of Dracula.


Yours,

Chris

shut up

no one's impressed you fuckwit.