Letters to the Editor
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You call that a story?
Fine.
I'll write MY story and send it in to Salon. It'll beat this one flat. Sweet, bittersweet, and horrific by turns. Men will shake their heads. Women will cry. Poets will wonder. The blind will see. Unicorns will shyly wander up and lay their heads in your lap.
And it won't be fiction.
She was a wild child. Chemistry was involved, as was skiing, parental disapproval, travel to almost-legendary places, and a near-death experience.
I'll probably need to be sedated two days in. And I should probably get my analyst's approval in advance.

