Is a book that may or may not be written. It is about two people who will die alone. One in Brooklyn, New York, and one in Youngstown, Ohio. It will not be written by me. It will be written by a lovely man with more tact, or possibly less tact. It is not sad. It is deeply existential. These people, they write to one another, baring their souls- sharing their day to day conditions. They say things like "I feel uncomfortable being close to anyone," and "but i am moved by you . . ." They do not subside or lift their anxieties by sharing them, nor do they expel said anxieties. They share them. It will be nice when this book is or isn't written. I will most likely read it.
Watch the mail.