Fare Forward: Letters from David Markson

Nov 13 ’05

Simso—

Down the corridor here, a youngster with fire-engine red hair. When he’s carried or wheeled past, he’s never done anything but stare and scowl at me. Roughly two weeks ago, near Halloween, he had his first birthday. I knocked — and gave him the pumpkin. Those things are dense, they’re heavy. I thought he was nowhere near strong enough, but he gripped it in both hands and wouldn’t let go. His mother said he held onto it for days. Ever since, whenever I’ve seen him, he grins and grins. He’s now my little red-headed buddy. And that’s the tale of your silly-arsed pumpkin!

Love, etc.—

David