When I was a kid we took regular trips to nearby attractions, “nearby” meaning “The Northeast and Atlantic Seaboard”. One of our favorite destinations was Washington, D.C., home of (at the time) very clean subways, some parks, the Smithsonian, and an unusual concentration of memorial sites. Oh also there are a lot of lobbyists there. But when I wrote this letter to my grandmother, I had bigger things on my mind than stuff like that.
Here you can already see the attention to detail that would become evident in my fiction; I’m not sure how Nana would have gotten through that day without knowing that the toilet had gotten plugged. (I vaguely remember water flowing out of the bathroom in one of our hotels; presumably it was this one.) However I failed to mention that when we were in the Washington Monument, the nice elevator operator let me run the elevator, which (at the time) still ran on a lever that you would push up or down. I have no idea if that’s still the case; if it is, I doubt they let small children touch it anymore.
The “Orphen” referenced in this letter is most likely Orphan Orange. There is also an Orphan Red, but he was my brother’s toy and probably would not have appeared in a letter from me. Where is Orphan Orange now, you ask? Why, he’s on the shelf behind me, looking right at you!!!
I’m not sure who was in the ambulance that went by. Hmm, 1978? Maybe it was the economy.
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