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September 01, 2005

A prayer for Poppy

Poppy Z. Brite is alive.

Hell

Or the closest thing I have ever known.

No word on our house or cats. The situation in New Orleans is dire, what's left of us. People are trying to help with the animals, and God bless them, but I don't know if any of them will be able to get in -- we hear they're letting almost no one in -- and I've already given up so much of my hope. Last night I had the first dream of being home, of seeing their faces. Thank God for our nurse friend who lives near my mother; if not for the array of pharmaceuticals she has been handing out, I believe I would have run outside and grabbed one of those live wires the PSAs are always telling you not to touch.

Posted by Ghost of a flea at September 1, 2005 05:54 PM

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