Dear Planet Earth,
â€œHey,Â little guy.â€
I awoke this morning to see a strange man sitting on the edge of my bed. He had ragged clothing and dark, greasy hair. He was hunched over and smiling at me.
â€œBut I guess youâ€™re not so little anymore.â€
I sat up and pushed myself against the wall.
â€œThey say that youâ€™reÂ starting to talk again. That youâ€™re not so sick.â€
The glare of the morning sun and dirty patches of facial hair obscured much of his face, but I could still make out that lupine smile.
â€œI guess we kept on missing each other, huh? WhenÂ Martha told me you were with the army, it was too late. My friends tried to keep you atthat motel before that, but you ran off before I could get there.â€
He seemed to be waiting for me to say something. When I didnâ€™t, he motioned to my laptop sitting on a table and continued.
â€œIâ€™ve been reading your blog. Iâ€™m sorry they shot at you. They werenâ€™t supposed to. And youÂ lost a friend.â€
â€œDiana,â€ I said. â€œHer name was Diana.â€
â€œWell, Iâ€™m sorry about Diana.â€ He nodded and it looked like he might have had some tears in his eyes. â€œIt looks like youâ€™ve been through a lot of adventures. Iâ€™m just happy youâ€™re safe.â€
He stood up and walked to the door.
â€œWeâ€™ll talk tomorrow,â€ he said. â€œYou donâ€™t look like you want to say anything today.â€
I said, â€œWait.â€ And he waited. â€œAre you really. . . are you. . .â€
The words wouldnâ€™t come out of me. My head was pounding, refusing to believe what I saw in front of me.
â€œYeah, itâ€™s really me, son.â€
And he left.
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