Anita was my very best and first real friend after we moved to Las Vegas from Maryland. She was the shy Japanese girl sitting alone at the bus stop and I was the shy closeted gay boy afraid of everyone at the bus stop! A perfect match in high school hell if you ask me.
This letter was months into our friendship and obviously she was none to happy about my girlfriend, Barbi. Everybody had a nick name, Nit Nit was Anita and I was P.T. (prick tease) and I haven’t a clue who the anonymous ghost writer on this letter was.
Picture taken on October 15, 2006
The shed sits there, filled to the brim with garden stuff…dirty, rusted, bent, metal tools designed specifically to rip nature apart. The windows are frosted with decades of oily dirt and blocked by handmade shelves falling dangerously to the left. Containers of pesticides, dried out paint and gasoline decay in perfect harmony.
Good-bye…it’s so permanent when we say it to those who have passed over to another existence. Where does the soul really go? Does it wait for loved ones to join them on the other side before moving on? Move on to where, an unknown resort in an unknown sky?
