Dear Silver

 

You've never met me, but I once saw you sitting atop a condominium rest house in Venice, looking through the window. If nothing else you better contact me by way of telephone, email or the old-fashioned snail mail. We have things to talk about, such as why colors don't mix the same way as they used to, and why meals always lack some certain ingredient. We will start an investigation of all the things that went wrong this year. We'll walk through the streets and find our way to the alleys out back. If Mr. Valedomo's precious ivory vase doesn't get found, we don't know if he would suffer another stroke. We must also find a stock of green bell peppers for Mrs. St. Bell.