cecily,

the feather duster that mrs. frisch left up in the attic has been getting way too much use since you left cardinal. i'm not exactly sure why. i just know that i find myself picking it up whenever i get sad. i suppose that dusting is a better form of therapy than a lot of things i could be doing. monty drinks cough syrup, bridget throws plates-i clean. i guess it's not so bad, really, it just seems like such a waste of time. i hope that everything's swell in saint johnsbury. it's hard to believe you've been gone for three months already. weeks seem to slip past me completely unnoticed these days. i feel like i'm getting old but i don't think that if i try to stop time i'll be met with much success. things are pretty slow here in ontario, though. they got a new pinball machine down at the arcade. martin's been driving his mom into poverty with all those quarters he feeds it. i never really understood people with pinball addictions. i don't get me wrong, i think the game is super, but it gets so tedious after half an hour. the game is called "Jetfighter", i think-do you know that one? i bet martin could kick your ass at it!

now that summer's ending the mornings are getting chilly again. i wear that jacket with the corduroy cuffs and collar when i go out for walks in the morning. i've been rising earlier lately. i went down to the tracks yesterday at about 7 am and found a nice hobo feller from los angeles. i asked him why he'd come all the way to cardinal and he just sort of shrugged. he told me that he's been coming here for 22 years & mentioned something about an obsession with photographing canals. hell, whatever floats your boat, right? i wish i could be in saint johnsbury to see the leaves change colors. should be about a week before peak color season, right? the trees are pretty here, too, but it's just not the same. you tell me that the northeast kingdom is dull, but i don't understand how you could say that. to me, it's the closest thing to heaven that i know. maybe it's easier to see it when you don't live there.

if i was there i'd ask you to take me down to that field, the one where we had the picnic three summers ago. it makes me laugh when i think that i never would hav emet you if you hadn't been wearing that duran duran t-shirt. i thought i had you completely figured out back then, because i only took you at face value. you seemed so simple, & i guess you still are, cause you're so goddamned smart that you know how much more valuable it is to be that way. the only difference is that now i seem to turn everything you do into a labyrinth. i can fumble my way around your words in an attempt for understanding, but someone always seems to tip the square before the ball reaches the endpoint. but i love the way you are, cess, i've always loved enigmas. please don't ever change that way.

i'm always wondering why i'm here when i sit on the walls of the canal & throw rocks. it's tricky not to slide down in some places but i'm pretty sure i've mastered the art okay. sometimes i think i stay here just cause i don't have anyplace else to be. michael told me that he might start charging me 75 bucks a month to rent out the attic, & that was enough to make me want to leave. maybe i could come visit you? i've been trying to beat some sense into my skull, cause sometimes my brain will go off on these trips where i think about us getting a little shack together, somewhere where it doesn't get quite so cold. maybe it's because i'm madly in love with you. yeah, i needed to tell you that. if you want me to be your girl, meet me at that statue you love in vergennes next saturday. i'll be there bright and early.

-corinne