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LetterDecember 14 Dear ####, How are you? I imagine not great. Well, I don’t know which way you went. Maybe you’re doing fantastic. The cannery is as lively as ever. I see more and more rats every day. It smells god-awful, as usual. You remember. What am I talking about – damnit. You wouldn’t want to hear about the factory. You hated it as much of the rest of us, now I can see that. Maybe you hated it even more so. That would explain what you did. Even though everything was covered in soot and grime, you’d simply glow for us. I will- no- I swear to God I will never forget the way your smile shone in the dark. It would make me forget the stiffness in my fingers and the sores in my heels. The bar is good. The old man is there. He still hasn’t retired – I don’t think he ever will. I’m sorry. I know you especially didn’t like the bar. I remember – you’d pout and point at my glass, or my cigarette and say, ‘That’s not good for you!’ It was cute. Who else cared for me like you did? I’ve been drinking more since you left. I’m sorry. I miss you. I miss you. -Your friend, ####

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