Grant Gilliland

Stein Arbucher in the desert…en route to delivering his last package of the day. He couldn’t help but read the piece of paper that went along with this flower…it read:

To the presumably single Misses Henny Ellingmash,

I send you a flower to commemorate the one time in 1992 when we danced inappropriately at the ex-landlord convention…you were my writhing, pungent flower of joy there on the dance floor…too bad I happened to slip a disc during the funk-fusion set. I haven’t felt feelings like I had that night ever since…and it is my one wish (besides bigger ankles) that you will find it in your heart to contact me again so that we might re-connect, and share our stories. My bunions flare for you.

Yours wincingly,

Winkchester Balmy