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My love, My dear, Jenni,

A NEW LETTER FROM FOREST WAS FOUND

Dug up from the ground. A lost love letter to Jenni.

Forever my love,

With you, till the end my dear, For love knows no end.

“Mama… Mama… Forest was here.” …said the child. The year was 1964…

two pages down, one-hundred and eighteen to go, to meet the two hour feature film requirement. i’m not pitching. in fact, the finished piece won’t have these side notes regarding the process of making a literary work. i prefer the language contribute to the progression of the story, rather than a discussion about what i wish to accomplish. with that said, what of the audience that enjoys author insight? organizing the language. moving along, my literary masterpiece caught a flat when the debate of whom or who arose. searched the web, reading language, it remains a guessing game for me. let’s continue, anyway. a child is born. with you, i too wonder of her journey. the events that will take place during her epic quest, reason for the telling of her tale, it’s rattling around in there, i’m excited for its completion, but it will not be until the translation arrives to a conclusion. your mother and father first laid eyes on one another six years before serendipity played a game of chance with their fate. a young man, not too big, not too small, in other words, an ordinary boy was running up and down the shore. ‘how do waves anything in this world?’ the boy may not have spoken, but who knows whom’s thinking what? splash! go the waves. you know where this is headed, don’t you? the little fucker gets pulled by a wave. ‘mijo, mee-ijo! my son!’ goes the mama. a life guard hears this. she uses her binoculars to find a helpless boy being dragged by the ocean's tide. she sprints into action, dives into the water, and works her way to EL NIÑO.

‘relax!’

she insists. she grabs hold of the boy and they make their way to land. the boy is unresponsive. ‘i need space, everyone!’ the lifeguard asserts. she begins to perform cardiopulmonary resuscitation. the sad sight of the child’s mother blaming herself for a common incident brings silence to the concerned crowd. one eye presents itself. the woman continues. one more pump. two more pumps. splat! goes the puke of salt water. the young man regains his senses. ‘are you okay?’ the concerned

lifeguard asks the boy. he nods his head at the woman who arrived to his rescue. applause begins and the mother embraces her child. a grin of relief finds its way on el niño’s face. he may not be conscious of this feeling, but we’re all familiar with the joy, i hope. the boy experienced not his first, but certainly his most memorable climax. not in an ejaculatory sense, rather pure ecstasy. ‘what are you smiling about? you almost died, numb-nuts!’ says the child’s father. do not judge the father based on his language. he too was frightened by the event. the father’s upset at the thought of losing his child, not the child. unable to communicate his feelings, the boy’s smile turned to waterfalls. his mother persists, ‘you’re alright now, my love.’ the crowd disperse until the family and the lifeguard are left discussing what is best for the child after an experience like this. the lifeguard may not be aware, but the boy is head over heels in love with her. his mind begins to morph coincidental events into one big plot that has led him to the love of his life. ‘how did the tide get me? why did we go to the beach today and not yesterday? what about tomorrow? why did she jump to my rescue, when so many other lifeguards were available?’ the boy keeps to himself while his father continues to give him a piece of his mind, ‘and you can forget about the beach…’ the boy hears. ‘that’s not fair,’ he responds. ‘don’t talk to me about fair. what i say is final,’ his father insists. ‘and another thing…’