They say I am going to New York City this weekend. They say I will take the northbound regional train at noon from the Old Dominion all the way up to Penn Station, getting in round about five-thirty, where maybe at least one of my friends will be waiting for me there. And then they say I will stay with dear Cecelia that night, sharing her bed as she has no other furniture, the two of us sleeping beneath the ever-growing crack in her ceiling which is both driving her mad and out of the place for good. Maybe it will burst open while I am there and the whole thing will finally come crashing down on us—the upper floors and the city of New York itself the outer cosmos and everything beyond. In some sense I know such a thing would come as a big relief to the two of us . . . but if it is not to be so, then I will be glad just as well to live on a little longer, as least as long as the eight or nine days I plan to spend up there in ol New York where so many of my good friends live. Are you one of them? Well, all you gotta do is let me know, and then I’ll come see you too. Dig it??