September 23, 1985
Dear Charlie,
I came home from school today, ate a bowl of Cheerios and swam in the lake. Lake Winnebago, that is. I know it’s late in the summer to be swimming —or is it already fall? It certainly feels like it today. But I can’t resist being tossed by chilly whitecaps, the near-nakedness of my body swallowed and reborn…
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