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dear abby,

dear abby,
i grew up in a city with a morning and afternoon paper, so we never had to choose between you and your sister (and besides, your pictures were so much alike it took me a long time to realize you were different people). with you two, charles schulz, and walter scott’s personality parade, i felt that the universe was ordered and that answers were possible. i no longer feel that way, though i try to live as if it were once true. how do i reconcile the divisions between the world i knew, the one i see around me, and what is to be? is grace possible? why are we here? what is the meaning of it all?
at sea in at lanta

dear at,
answers to your questions now in sight.
abby
ps- schulz says ‘buck up’.