The 12th of April 1983 – Portland, Oregon

(found by the place, but not exactly the place, where it was meant to be)

Dear Beverly,

Thank you for writing. I’m glad to hear that you are well. I’m glad to hear that the kids are well, too. It sounds like things are going alright with you. That’s alright. That’s great.

I’m good, you know? It’s like, I’m good. I know it, too. I’m good, but that’s just it. I’m good.

But then, everything might go wrong one day. That’s there too, that everything might go completely and totally wrong. But I’m good, at least today, at least now. I’m good, and everything might go wrong one day. At least I know that day isn’t today. That time isn’t right now. So I’m good.

Everything’s always different, though. I don’t understand that. And nothing ever seems to actually change. I don’t understand that either. But still, I’m good. Don’t worry about that. I don’t worry about anything like that, anything that turns different without ever changing. I don’t worry about that. I’m good.

I get these itches sometimes, though. I get these itches, but the doctor says there’s no rash. But still, I itch and itch and it itches tremendously. It itches and itches like I’m just in the wrong skin, not that it fits me too tight or too loose, just that it’s the wrong skin.

I scratch at it, you know, like a werewolf, sometimes. I feel like tearing it off, just tearing it straight off my body to see what’s underneath there. Maybe I’m really a werewolf, maybe underneath all of this, I’m just a werewolf and all I have to do is claw off all this skin, you know? If I could tear it all off, and I’m a werewolf, then that’s just what I’d be. Maybe things would change finally, just once and for all change. No longer just be different, but actually change.

Dear Beverly, just don’t worry about it. I’m good. I’m good, maybe just a little tired. The doctor says not to worry about the itch. He says there’s no rash or anything to be worried about, so just don’t worry about it. I don’t worry about it. I’m good.

I’m good.

Something is going to change, though. I’m sure. And everything is going to go wrong one day. I’m sure of that, too.

I’m good, though.

It was nice to hear from you, Beverly.

I’m good.

Peter

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