After I gave you that lamp, we ate at that terrible Chinese. It’s an angle-poise because you press your face too close to the page when you read and there’s never enough light. You won’t wear glasses because you say your nose is too small and with glasses you’d look like a mole which you don’t… wouldn’t. They’d suit you. You’d look just as fairly beautiful as you are. It’s yellow because you said no one wants a yellow lamp. So I thought if I got it for you in yellow then no one would steal it from your desk. I do give these things quite a lot of consideration, you see. The devil is in the detail.
So I got your letter. San Francisco, amazing. I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to write back. There are life’s natural heroes and then there’s you. Your words. You always believe somewhere deep in you there’s a coward, I wish I had told that that’s not true, because you lept, while I stayed. Feet first into the unknown. Why should I have expected anything less than fearlessness from you? But I am not as brave as you. I want to write and say I’ll be there, I’ll get on a plane, I’ll come right now, I really do but I can’t. Not because I don’t love you, I love you Freddie Lyon, but because you won’t even get this letter, because I won’t send it. I’m the coward, Freddie, not you. So, instead, I’m sending this prayer out there. Just hoping that somehow you’ll know to come home. Please come home. Now, soon. And maybe your courage will make me brave, too. Just come home and I will leap too.
The more I think about it, the more I’m convinced Randall + origami swan + strangly tangential ethnographic anecdote + random quotation from Sophocles is actually more unsettling than most told-on-purpose ghost stories.
But you know you’ve become completely used to him when you stop thinking what is he talking about???? and start thinking, why yes, this is a totally normal normal office conversation.