letters to spencer

Hey Spencer.

You died three days ago, but you’ve been dead for nine.

I don’t know what’s going on in the news. The Strait of Hormuz is still closed. Enough time has passed for real shortages of petroleum and nitrogen to be felt, starting today, or maybe yesterday, or last week.

I hope you know that Dad came to see you. I gave you two an hour or so alone together. He said he told you about his favorite memories of your childhood. I tried to do the same, but couldn’t think of one.

I took Dad to get a new cell phone today because he keeps buying Androids but can’t learn to use them. He has a Nokia flip-phone now. This took four hours and five visits to various electronics stores. I gave Emily your watch. I took some hydroxyzine this morning so I wouldn’t cry today. I don’t know what I took last night, but I slept for almost fourteen hours. I took too many pills this morning, I think. While I was driving I thought of texting you, “ever take so many benadryl u feel like borat”

Alex