ENTRY ONE HUNDRED TWENTY-NINE

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Dear Logos,

I wanted to tell you Logos that I’ve had a memory of Fill. I felt I had to share it with you because you knew him as well as I did. And I think it’s safe if they have it — there’s not much in it to begin with.

I was facing a field at the edge of a parking lot when I heard a voice call out, “Hey, Del!” and spun around. I must have been walking towards the sun because when I turn around I see Fill, standing afar from me over by a red pickup truck, and shielding the sun from his eyes. For once, he doesn’t wear white. And he looks younger. Less pierced. No Samson tattoo. We are in a parking lot of a rundown small town grocery store. He holds his arm up and waves, and I salute back at him. Then I face the sun again and walk towards the field, feeling my long hair hit my back between my shoulder blades.

[Ctrl] [Dele]

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