one year ago we drove to the east bay to see nimmy and go to sick fest. on the way up we ran into underpass at a gas station. on the way out of town we saw jon working at alameda natural grocery. i guess it’s about the time erica wrote me that last letter, she was preparing to visit socal.
last night i played my little casio in a song about a sunbeam, song about a girl. i spent hours of the morning working on a painting, something erica had said once. painted over it. left it outside to warp in the moisture overnight.
this morning i left the house around 7am, walked around my neighborhood, came home and collapsed on the blanket forgotten yesterday in the backyard which is where you’ll find me now.
we’ll drive up for another quick turnaround trip next month for her memorial