All About Marcy

A brief postcard from Sausalito.

A month after the last full-length letter, Marcy is living and working in Southern California, and writing about her aunts Sara and Stelle. “of course, 90 billion years of age is a bit old to start asserting your independence and turning over a new leaf.”

In which Marcy gets a new apartment and listens to jazz radio. “month-to-month lease, meaning I can leave when I want, no sweat, no hangups, no muss, no fuss, no mess, no nasty after taste.”

Life updates from Southern California. “this guy never has heard of some of the most important people in my world, never read some of the—most, all, I guess, of the most important books there are to read, nor seen any of the films that have been meaningful to me, nor appreciated anything other than a limited stratum of light classical music. A fine mind just going to waste, really sad.”

Marcy’s last letter from Southern California. “really sorry I believed all those proselytizers who still keep saying it never rains here, drowning in the puddles (there are no drainage facilities as it never rains here) while in the midst of saying so.”