Wringer

 It is interesting that the more I think about things, the more I feel closer to you. I read the old emails and think about how things were, until people tried so hard to make things ugly. It was the weirdest, scariest feeling. It was like trying to pull something up with a spider web. You just keep grasping, but the web just disappears. I knew that when I could not stay at a hotel the night before needing to go to court, so I stayed at the hospital nearby. Each time I started to doze off, someone came by and made noise. I know it was no mistake, just as when the janitor parked a vacuum type machine and it blew all kinds of garbage at me and he just left it there, so I had to move all my stuff. I felt awkward enough, but I knew people had been alerted to make me uncomfortable. I was so sick in the car hours later. (It was a conflagration!)  So many times I tried to find a safe place to sleep in the car, but there is no such thing. I always had some kind of weirdness happen. It was such an endless stream of farcical court hearings. I guess they were just supposed to wear me down. It wasn't fun. I went through the wringer.