A Letter to Ruben

Brother Ruben,

When the time comes for him to enlist you, and believe me Ruben he will enlist you, just be sure that all of your eggs aren't in one basket - so to speak.

I am going the way of the combustion engine my dear brother. My time here is setting like the sun. The doctors say it was too much port wine, but I just don't know anymore. The point is you can never really plan for these things, they just kind of happen.

My hope is that the good lord will forgive me for all the shit things I have done... but who can really tell.

After the great war I never blamed you for what happened to the family... At least not like Sara did. All the same you pulled some lame brain stunts back then, nothing that I can't forgive, but the man upstairs may feel differently.

I am leaving you the old southern house. It used to belong to L.W. Clem, so I am sure you will be able to sell it for some fair price. Just remember, it's old, it's south, and it is for shit.

Don't ever stop shining Ruben... you always shined so goddamned free.

Your Brother,

Paul