April 17, 2005

Dear Mr. Bush,

We sat on a bench today, our bodies drinking in the warm air and patchy sun, tossing a frisbee to our dog. It was a brief but welcome respite in a busy weekend juggling the responsibility of caring for a woman in the last stages of pregnancy and getting another issue of my magazine to press. Twenty-four hours from now one of those two stresses will have ended, but it's anyone's guess which it'll be.



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