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(Created page with "Marion 12/25/30 Dear Charles -. Christmas afternoon...just growing dark. I'm in the paint shop, above. I've been thinking of you, W?, and K. I went out in the car, just n...")
 
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Marion  12/25/30
 
Dear Charles -.  Christmas afternoon...just growing dark. I'm in the paint shop, above. I've been thinking of you,  
 
[[ written in pencil in top margin:    Marion  12/25/30]]
 
Dear Charles -.  Christmas afternoon...just growing dark. I'm in the paint shop, alone. I've been thinking of you,  
W?, and K.
W?, and K.
   I went out in the car, just now toward Wythenills. There has been many mor. It is an old [[queer?]] car,  
   I went out in the car, just now toward Wytheville. There have been many [[?]]. It is an old queer [[?]] car,
turning blue.
turning blue.
   Do you remember Peter Benegos - the elder. May be the man? It is like that - - bluish white snow, very cold... purple tree trunks...a
   Do you remember Peter Benegos - the elder.   May be the man?   It is like that - - bluish white snow, very cold... purple tree trunks...a
man walking across a field..dogs.
man walking across a field..dogs.
           *                                  *                                        *
           *                                  *                                        *
   I hate Christmas. The last two Christmases before my mother died..  She was ill all Christmas. We were presumed to be a [[ar?id]] family, of
   I hate Christmas. The last two Christmases before my mother died..  She was ill all Christmas. We were presumed to be a [[?]] family, of
some class. We went with middle-class children.
some class. We went with middle-class children.
   So Christmas came We was asked by other children to go to their houses and see their things. There was always a flood? We had nothing.
   So Christmas came We were asked by other children to go to their houses and see their things. There was always a flood. We had nothing.
   The things didn't matter. My father said - "who wants their goddam things."
   The things didn't matter. My father said - "who wants their goddam things."

Revision as of 04:19, 12 July 2022


written in pencil in top margin: Marion 12/25/30

Dear Charles -. Christmas afternoon...just growing dark. I'm in the paint shop, alone. I've been thinking of you, W?, and K.

 I went out in the car, just now toward Wytheville. There have been many ?. It is an old queer ? car,

turning blue.

 Do you remember Peter Benegos - the elder.   May be the man?    It is like that - - bluish white snow, very cold... purple tree trunks...a

man walking across a field..dogs.

          *                                  *                                         *
 I hate Christmas. The last two Christmases before my mother died..   She was ill all Christmas. We were presumed to be a ? family, of

some class. We went with middle-class children.

 So Christmas came We were asked by other children to go to their houses and see their things. There was always a flood.  We had nothing.
 The things didn't matter. My father said - "who wants their goddam things."