Recovery

A beautiful spring morning, birds chirping and road construction crews doing their morning stretching routines. The younger members cut their calf extensions short to start oiling their concrete saws. They are anxious to start the season off, these cacophonous heralds of spring.

In a dark room, shutters pulled, a shaking hand puts down a handkerchief and reaches over to the end table for a thick, aluminum pen.

Dear Editor;
Thank you for your concern over my well being, or at least that is what I ascertained from your letters inquiring about my tardiness in providing answers. I have returned to my base and am currently recovering from a nasty spell of some sort of tropical ailment. I understand that the questions are piling up and I will turn to them as soon as I recover.

Yours,
TAP.