Holy Tornado

To see the soul of your comrade listen carefully to his music.

Sunday, May 15, 2005


Dear son,
I am writing this slow because I know that you can't read fast.
We don't live where we did when you left. Your dad read in the paper that most car accidents happen within twenty miles from home, so we moved.
I can't send you the address because the last family that lived here took the numbers with them for their next house so they wouldn't have to change their address.

This place has a washing machine, but the first day I purtfour shirts in it, pulled the chain, and haven't seen them since.
It rained here only twice last week, three days the first time and four the second.

We got a bill from the funeral home, and it said that if we didn't make the last payment on grandma's funeral, up she comes.
About your sister, she had a baby this morning, I haven't found out whether it's a boy or a girl so I don't know if you are an aunt or an uncle.

Your uncle John fell in the whiskey vat. Some men tried to pull him out but he fought them off and drowned. We cremated him and he burned for three days.

Aunt Mabel in knitting you some socks. She would have sent them by now, but I told her you had grown another foot since she last saw you, so she had to knit another one.
Not much more news this time. Nothing much has happened.
Love, Mom