He never used Wite-Out when he would write me postcards. Sometimes he would cross things out. But not often, and when he did, I could still read what he had scribbled over. The mistakes he made revealed that his writing was rushed and honest. He made no plan or draft, yet the message felt all the more genuine for it. Some sentences were too long, and he knew it. There were misspellings and large words where small ones would’ve done the job as well. We both understood the deal. Honesty, no Wite-Out. He didn’t need it. We didn’t need it.
Postcards FromIn by Michael on May 18, 2012 at 11:06 pm