It's a letter from Henry. Sevario hasn't even reached the airport, and I start to feel the old pull.
Henry asks how my mother is doing, asks how I'm faring, whether it's light enough. He tells me news of Nido Claro. He mentions visiting, but he isn't specific. Has he cooled off, or have I?
I don't know anymore whether he's my friend or something more. Clearly, I'm drawn to long-distance relationships--friends and lovers, if I could even call it that.
But today I'm wanting something more. I set the letter in my bag, promising to answer it later, and head out to bring in the wash from the line.