Allow me to express my sincerest gratitude for your compliments on my memoirs.
As for the question of the green sweatshirt and its convenient appearances and disappearances in my narrative, I must admit that no work of true genius comes without a few glaring continuity errors. Whether the error’s fault falls upon the very fabric of the universe or my own memory, none can say; both are vulnerable to the alterations of my imagination, and therefore I distrust both equally.
However, I do much appreciate your correspondence, and I apologize that it took so many days to respond to your thoughtful communiqué. I’m afraid my keepers don’t allow me to spend much time on the Internet, for fear of taxing my delicate nerves. How are you? As for me, it’s raining and they won’t let me drink wine. Bastards. I’ve been trying to learn to play the violin, but it shrieks like a cornered cat whenever I try to make music come out of it. And today I lost a game of solitaire because, as I realized too late, the deck of cards the research staff has given me lacks the Knave of Diamonds. I counted the cards, identified the problem, flung the entire deck across the room in my fury, and commenced to brood. Sigh. Life is long, a little too long.
Pardon my brevity. The QWERTY keyboard is not designed for my hands; they fatigue quickly.
Dear Bruno, I have read the advance copy of your memoir and enjoyed it very much. Congratulations on producing such a fascinating work. There’s one little detail that keeps nagging at me, though (maybe I have read too many mysteries where one has to keep up with details?), which is, how did the green sweatshirt get from Lydia’s apartment to your suitcase so you could put it on Celeste? Just wondering, since you arrived in NY naked and presumably without baggage. Maybe Tal gave it to you when you visited the apartment?