Packing, going through this box of really old stuff that would probably break everyone’s heart but mine. I wrote a lot. And I was really into Jesus for a while there, but in this incredibly juvenile way.
But in the middle is a piece of paper printed off a dot-matrix printer, in the upper-right corner, written in red pen, it says, “Fall or Spring 94-95.”
Most of it isn’t worth sharing. But the first line is this:
She stood at her patio doors, feeling French…