Dear Dean,
You may only be in Kansas but it feels as if you're on the moon. Too far for my liking.
You ask of my father? I didn't exactly want to speak of him but you asked. Dean, he's not doing good. It's his heart, you know. I want to feel bad for him and I suppose a small part of me does, but I hate the man. I hate him with all I've got, and I haven't much. Dammit, it'd be horrid if he passed but, do I really care?
That must make me an awful son. He already despises me and it must be awful for him to have the one, out of many children, that he hates, be with him every moment of the day. I remember the scare with him finding out about us. Have I told you about it?
Miss you. Write back soon.
Cas
