by Don Pizarro
I address the letter to Katie, but I might as well have written, "Dear Occupant." I leave it where she's bound to find it and force myself to walk to the door, reminded of how she said (in one of her clearer moments) that she'd totally understand and wouldn't blame me. It's just that all the tips and tricks we've tried to get to know each other again just haven't worked. Through thick and thin, we'd said, but we never imagined her skull would have anything to do with it. I take a moment to reconsider the letter, but convince myself that it's more decent than vanishing. And if I'm wrong, I know there's always a high probability that she'll accidentally toss it out with some junk mail or simply forget where she left it last.
Don Pizarro, author of Code of Conduct, lives in upstate NY. His writing has appeared online at McSweeney's, American Nerd, and Byzarium.