Where I Was From

An Open Letter to San Francisco

My friend, my foe, my jealous, malodorous lover:

I've been meaning to have a frank discussion of our intentions for each other for some time now, but certain distractions as of late have barred the opportunity for a peaceful dialogue between the two of us. Suffice to say, I never seem to have an accurate idea of where exactly we stand. The warmest of greetings seem thin veils that poorly conceal outright enmity in your squalid night spots. You keep handing me matches and still somehow you're shocked when I burn the party down. Quite honestly, you're behaving like a bit of a pill and it's time for you and I to see other people for a while.

I'll be back at the end of the summer, and soon we'll have it as grand as it used to be.

Yours solely in the legal sense,

-Leah

Labels: California, memoir

posted by Leah @ 6:06 PM