I’m writing to tell you I’ve been named accountability manager
at the region’s third-largest performance estimation firm. In 1995
I married my fellow alum, Sue. We went to Hawaii for our honeymoon.
I haven’t gone anywhere since. Oh, God. I miss sunsets from the
library roof, getting stoned with Dave and Keith. Life just keeps
getting smaller now. Keith killed himself last fall. I haven’t
heard from Dave since graduation. He didn’t come to the funeral. If
anyone knows where he is . . .
We have two adorable children, Danny and Lori. I wanted more,
but Sue had the miscarriage and a hysterectomy. We finally sold the
crib in a garage sale last June. I think she hates me. We still
have sex every Thursday, but it’s not the same. We own a beautiful
house, with two acres and a pool. Sue was fired from the hospital
last month when she showed up drunk again. Now she just sleeps. I
wanted to tell you I’ve done my best to use my sociology degree,
but there were so many bills, and everyone has to work
somewhere.
My hobbies are raising goldfish and watching gay porn with my
neighbor, Steve. Although I don’t let him do anything to me. Much.
I don’t paint anymore, and I haven’t skied since the accident. Some
days, I think about packing the car and leaving. Maybe heading
south. Maybe with Steve. I’m writing to tell you I have
disappeared. I’m writing in case you remember me.
This story won the 2003 Postcard Story Competition in
Canada. From Geist (Winter 2003). Subscriptions: U.S.
$25/yr. (4 issues) from the Geist Foundation, 1014 Homer St., #103,
Vancouver, BC, Canada V6B 2W9;
www.geist.com
