Dear Country, I’ll continue to do my best. I go to my tiny study and rule: ruthless, in papers of wilderness. They say you can drown in an inch of water. Will anyone notice if I drown in my espresso? And tell the Senate I’m weary of being in charge of my own misery. I give it to them to decipher. I will be here reading readings on Lacan.

Dear Senate, I love this view of the woods and the cliff.  (I’m having some alone time). I sometimes see high school students running the winding trails: a thrashing pony tail on a svelte Quarterback leading the Track and Field to Suicide Corner. I’m remembering Hillary Clinton in 2016: November woods, walking slowly in a long embroidered coat. Sometimes one fantasizes about a sturdy stick, finding some semblance of peace, giving up the game, going native. And I should follow suit… As always, I’m considering quitting.

                       —C.A.C.