I know you thought I was dead, but I wasn't, I was just in Mexico. I would have told you but I figured if I did, you might break in and steal my typewriter painting.
This is a story of a magic miracle of wonder and delight. Back in February I thought I lost my brother's digital camera. Now, I don't usually lose things. I hardly ever lose things. I have mechanical pencils that are nine years old. But I misplaced this camera. It was while being a still photographer on a film that was all night shoots, so I figured that in my giddy exhaustion I must have left it somewhere and that it would at sometime make its way back to me like a one-legged tin soldier. But I waited and waited and started pricing out replacements.
Then, last weekend, while reaching into a purse-sized bag that I'd be walking around with for two days, my hand touches something in the pocket and there it is. An entire, whole, miraculous camera. Placed there by the fairies themselves.
So I'm still someone who doesn't lose stuff. Smugness regained.
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